How We Lived
by violetbubblegum
Summary: "The whole wizarding world just watched and waited as they destroyed each other." Draco Malfoy has been kidnapped from his home, and the only one who can piece together the clues left behind is his estranged ex-fiancee Hermione Granger. A murky, painful past is about to be uncovered and no one's going to walk away unharmed. Drabbles & full lengths, EWE,DH compatible, T for language
1. No Resemblance

A.N: This chapter is an actual chapter, but it's more like an introduction. But most likely the rest will be. If it is not, it will say so at the beginning. Have fun (: x

Warning: Swearing.

Disclaimer: J.K Rowling owns the rights to these wonderful, wonderful characters.

* * *

The first thing Draco saw was the ceiling, which meant that he must have been lying down, which didn't make sense. Why was he he lying down? It felt as if he were lying on the ground. The last thing he remembered was asking Blaise Zabini when his wedding was, and he didn't know the answer, which didn't make sense either...

The world before him spun and shook as he tried to sit up. His vision reverted to normalcy but he couldn't make sense of the state of the room. It was a mess. Some tables were on its side; some chairs had had its legs blasted off. Then he remembered all the bangs and flashes that followed his and Blaise's brief conversation.

It was then when Draco registered the faint scratching sounds coming from somewhere in front in him.

Draco started violently as he realised that in the only chair that was not disturbed in some way had someone sitting in it. That someone was sitting with their back to him, bent over a table, scribbling furiously on what looked to be parchment. There was already a small stack of completed parchment on the table.

A voice said warmly, "Draco," The voice was familiar. The stranger had dropped their quill on the table. They had quickly glanced over their shoulder, too quick for Draco to fully establish whom the stranger was. He could tell the stranger was smiling, and judging by the voice, he was a male. "You're just in time, I'm just about to finish my gift for the lovely Mudblood Granger."

Even under the haze of confusion and sluggishness, Draco's instincts spiked. This was no friend of his. He had made it clear on many occasions that no friends of his were to use the word 'Mudblood' if they wished to remain his friend.

"If you do anything to hurt her-" Even as he was speaking, he did not know how he was going to end the sentence. Why should he care?

"Why would I want to do that?" asked the stranger lightly. Draco could not see the stranger's face, but he could tell that he was smiling again. Shivers ran up Draco's spine.

"If you – if you _touch _her, I'll – I'll-" Once again, the ending was unclear, but by now Draco had accepted the fact that yes, he did care. And no, he did not know why.

"Do you really think you're up to attempting anything, Draco? Judging by the angle you hit all the furniture, I'm guessing that you broke quite a few bones." There was a small underlying tone of amusement in the stranger's voice, which struck Draco as strange. He pushed that worry away as a sudden pain pierced him, temporarily blacking out all body functions, including speech.

When the pain ebbed away, Draco mustered enough strength to ask as levelly as possible, "What is it you're working on?" It was imperative the stranger remained calm. Somehow, Draco got the feeling the stranger wouldn't enjoy being riled up.

"Just a letter of sorts. Nothing malicious or harmful, I promise. Well, at least not physically harmful. And maybe I lied when I said nothing malicious," the strange replied casually. "Do you want to add something?" He raised his arm above his shoulder, back still to Draco, and waved his quill around tauntingly. Draco bit back a growl.

"What did you do to me?" he tried to ask, but his voice congealed in his throat. He cleared his throat and tried again.

"Nothing, just Stunned you," the stranger said. "And some other stuff, maybe," The man shifted around a bit, "Probably definitely some other stuff, actually."

Draco narrowed his eyes. It took a while for his eyes to focus, for the stranger had finally turned around, and he almost looked like –

"Blaise?" Draco gasped.

"No," said the Blaise impersonator, smiling slightly. The impersonator laid down their quill almost delicately, stood, walked over to where Draco was sitting and bent down to his level. "No, I'm not. Don't you just love Polyjuice Potion?"

"No, I can't say that I do," answered Draco.

Once the impersonator was back in their chair and safely turned around, Draco looked around wildly, searching for a way out. His heart was hammering loudly against his chest, as if wanting to burst out. He suddenly caught his reflection in a small mirror on one of the few cupboards that hadn't been caught in the whirlwind of spells.

His appearance shocked him. His baby-fine white-blonde hair was tinged with dirt, and what looked to be blood. There were small pieces of glass in there too. His pale, pointed face was now flushed with pain and his usually cool grey eyes were now panicked and afraid. He then caught sight of something reflected in the mirror on the ground, and all at once he saw his last hope glimmer before his eyes, and he was determined to snatch it before it disappeared.

He lunged towards his wand lying a metre from his body, ignoring the searing pain around his ribs. Something that resembled hope swam into his mind when his fingers closed around wand.

Draco chanced a glance at the impersonator. It was strange that so long had passed without any interference from them, and for a moment Draco was suspicious. Then the moment passed and the only thing Draco could think of was his wand.

He shook a little as he conjured the Patronus that would act as a messenger to the Ministry. The pain near his ribs was paramount, and he felt his thoughts jumbling a little as time went by. It felt like several of his ribs were broken.

Draco barely slipped his wand into his pocket when the impersonator leapt from the chair and raised their wand. Grinning broadly, the impersonator waved their wand and the small stack of parchment they had been working on so intently went gliding out of the room and out of sight.

_BAM!_

The sound of several Aurors arriving via Floo Powder cracked like a whip. The impersonator was flabbergasted.

"Potter," screamed Draco, catching sight of the Wizard who came soaring out of the fireplace next.

But then everything blacked out as he felt his navel jerk backwards harshly, and the pain blinded him. The impersonator grabbed him by the arm and taken him with Side-Along-Apparition.

"Nice try Draco," breathed the impersonator when they arrived at their destination. There was a sudden grunt of pain and the impersonator let go of Draco abruptly. Draco, who was suffering from his own agony, bent over to catch his breath.

"Potion's wearing off," whispered the impersonator, clutching their face. Draco, who recovered slightly, looked around at their surroundings. The temperature was icy cold, and he could see mountains in the distance. They were all capped with snow. Their immediate position was completely surrounded in trees. It reminded Draco vaguely of the Forbidden Forest, but the trees were distinctly younger and more spaced out, not to mention there was much more light here. The only building in sight was a fairly large cabin.

Draco noticed that the moans of pain from the person next to him had stopped. And as he looked at his abductor, he realised immediately where they were, why he was here, why he could not escape alone, and who his abductor was.

And God help him if he were to get out of this alive.

* * *

Hermione was already awake when the silver lynx soared into her bedroom. She had awoken suddenly just seconds before, with a strange sense of anticipation.

A deep voice echoed around her room. "Kindly apparate to the Ministry immediately. Kingsley."

Hermione sighed deeply and stood up. "Bloody hell," she mumbled, swinging her legs off her bed. She was dressed in her pyjama boxers and a baggy t-shirt. Her wand was on her bedside table. Stretching, she glanced at her clock. It was ten to seven in the morning. She whirled around her room, careful not to wake Luna in the room nearby. When she was fully dressed and presentable, Hermione grabbed her wand, and turned on the spot with a bang.

The first thing Hermione saw of the Ministry at seven in the morning was panic.

"Hurry," she heard someone shout. She saw two Aurors disappearing from the fireplaces.

"Harry," she cried, catching sight of the raven haired Wizard, who was sprinting to the fireplaces.

"Hermione," Harry said, stopping still. His eyes widened, and then he started to move towards the fireplaces again.

"Look, Kingsley will explain everything," he said, moving faster. "And just remember, it won't be as bad as it was the last time – and Ron and I will be there – we'll see you there –," and then he was swallowed up by the green flames.

Hermione was silent, stunned. The smallest seed of knowledge was already starting to grow in her mind. Then she turned and stalked to Kingsley's office, her face white. She didn't make any eye contact, or talk to anyone until she faced the door with the golden sign:

_Kingsley Shacklebolt_

_ Minister for Magic_

Steeling herself, she knocked on the door. The door swung open immediately.

"Come in," said the same voice that had echoed around her room just a few minutes before. The difference was that the voice in her room was powerful and commanding, whereas the one in the Ministry was tired and concerned.

Hermione entered. Kingsley was sitting behind his mahogany desk, his head in his hands. He looked up at Hermione's appearance. He looked extremely weary. Kingsley was dressed in simple robes, and he looked like he had been up all night.

"Miss Granger," he said, looking at her. "Thank you for coming so quickly."

"What is it, Minister?" asked Hermione.

"I have to ask something of you, Miss Granger," said Kingsley quietly. "If you refuse to do it, I completely understand. And how many times have I told you to call me Kingsley-"

"Kingsley, what is it?" Hermione interrupted, dropping all formality. "Who is it? Who's hurt?" As she spoke, fear shot through her like fire. She was reminded again, of the little seed of knowledge that had sprouted in her head earlier.

"No one's hurt," he paused, "At least, not to our knowledge." He looked as if he were deeply conflicted.

Hermione could hear Kingsley's clock ticking. "Where's Harry?" she said, desperation coating her words. She would not allow herself to think the worst. "Where's Ron?"

"Don't worry," Kingsley said reassuringly. "Harry and Ron are already there."

This information, at first, provided Hermione with relief. _They are okay._

But Hermione wouldn't be Hermione if she didn't acknowledge the rest of Kingsley's sentence.

"Where is 'there'?" she asked, her curiosity rising. Her question was met with a tense silence. Kingsley dropped his eyes.

"Kingsley, get to the point!" she snapped. This was very unlike her, but fear and anxiety were starting to get the better of her.

"Malfoy Manor," said Kingsley abruptly, raising his eyes to meet Hermione's now frozen ones. "Sit," he added, nodding to the chair in front of his desk.

Hermione could not move. Her body seemed unable to move. It was like a large hand had a chokehold over her windpipe. Hermione was very aware though, through the haze that gripped her, that Kingsley was watching her reaction very carefully, but she couldn't help the overwhelming memories that rushed over her.

_Bellatrix hovering over her, her face twisted._

_Dra- Malfoy hovering at the edge of her vision, looking sickened._

_An excruciating pain coursing through her, never ending, never stopping, please, let me die, let me be free from this, please-_

"Hermione. I fully understand if you don't want to do this."

Hermione was jolted back into reality, and it took her a full second to remember that the face in front of her was Kingsley's, not Bellatrix's.

"Hermione," repeated Kingsley. "That's why I had you Apparate here first, instead of the Manor, to pre-warn you, given your history with the place."

"Of course," she whispered numbly. Hermione gave herself a mental shake. "Of course." She cleared her throat. "What do you want me to do?"

* * *

There was already a swarm of reporters standing outside the gates, armed with Quick Quotes quills and several sheets of parchments.

"LOOK! THERE! IT'S GRANGER!" Someone shouted. The whole crowd started running and suddenly there were faces everywhere, questions being fired from all directions, cameras flashing and a whole lot of noise.

"Who do you think took Mr. Malfoy?"

"Do you think he's alive?"

"Why did it take you so long to get here?"

"Why weren't you with the first group of Aurors?"

"Mr. Malfoy has been previously linked to you. How do you feel about his abduction?"

"How do you feel about the rumours of Mr Malfoy stepping out with a mystery brunette late last night?"

"Who is on the Ministry's list of suspects so far?"

"Miss Granger, if you step over here for an exclusive interview..."

"Miss Granger, is it true you _actually_ lost twins?"

Hermione was doing her best to ignore all the questions that were being thrown at her, but the latest one, the one about the baby, pushed her to the limit. Even though it was completely false, it still stung somewhere deep inside.

She was previously trying to push her way through the horde of reporters, walking hastily down the lane towards the wrought-iron gates, but now she turned around, fuming, trying to find that stupid arse who asked about her baby –

"Hermione! Hermione, over here!" someone yelled. Hermione turned again, trying to find the source of the voice, when she spotted Ron, just beyond the gates, waving frantically.

"Ron!" she said in relief. He unlocked the gates, ushering Hermione in, and pointed his wand threateningly at the reporters, who had advanced after her, hoping to get inside.

"All of you, word of advice," he snarled. "Here's the best way to get your exclusive interview..."

The reporters desperately leaned forward, the eager look on their faces reminded Hermione of children on Christmas morning. She had the bizarre urge to laugh. So she did.

"Fuck. Off." finished Ron viciously. The eagerness slipped off the people's faces like goo. Ron and Hermione turned away from the press and started walking.

"They're going to write some horrible story about you now," Hermione said, still laughing as they headed into the Manor.

"Like I care," Ron shrugged, smiling. He looked at Hermione. "They're bloody vultures, aren't they?"

Hermione shrugged. "You get used to it."

"I bet you do."

As they entered the living room, Hermione couldn't help but note the obvious changes that had been made since the last time she had been there. The dark, heavy colours that made the Manor look so daunting were gone. The walls were now a dark hunter green with silver lining – _Slytherin colours_, thought Hermione humourlessly. The chandelier had been repaired as well and, Hermione noted, improved.

It wasn't nearly as painful as she expected to be walking back into the place of her nightmares.

There was about a dozen Aurors in the room – Harry amongst them. Someone said, "Weasley!" and Ron scurried off with a small wave and a reassuring smile, leaving Hermione alone. Most of the Aurors were ripping apart the room, searching, having little or no respect for the Manor.

On the mantelpiece of the fireplace, there was a collection of photos. Most of them contained Draco Malfoy. Hermione had an urge to examine them, to see them up close; look closely at what Draco Malfoy's life was like before she met him. Of course, he had described parts of his childhood at her will, but she didn't feel it was enough.

She barely took a step, swimming in her memories, when she remembered reality. She was here to investigate Draco Malfoy's abduction, not his family photographs.

"Hermione!" she heard Harry say from somewhere behind her.

She turned, grateful for an excuse to stop looking at Malfoy's childhood. Harry walked up to her, looking grim.

"Explain," Hermione demanded, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Didn't Kingsley already do that?"

"I want to hear it from you, Harry Potter."

Harry held up his hands in mock defeat, and spoke. "We got a message from Malfoy just a few minutes before you arrived at the Ministry this morning. Kingsley assembled the first Aurors he saw and sent us off to the Manor. That's why we were rushing when you were in the Atrium; we were headed to Malfoy Manor. We hoped to get there before he was taken, but we were too late. We saw him being Apparated away, but the person we saw with him was under the influence of Polyjuice Potion, as Malfoy's message told us. He, or she, was under the appearance of Blaise Zabini, and Malfoy got suspicious when Zabini didn't know when his own wedding was."

"I wouldn't put it past Blaise to not know the date of his own wedding," said Hermione, frowning.

"Well, Malfoy thought it was odd," said Harry. "And when 'Blaise' tried to Stun him, he definitely knew something was up."

"Okay, so the impostor _tried_ to Stun Draco, and then?"

"There was a scuffle, as you can see," said Harry, gesturing to the room. Hermione could see what he meant; she hadn't noticed how disrupted the whole room was, she was too preoccupied.

Tables were knocked over; some of the windows were broken. With a pang, Hermione saw the vase she had bought with Narcissa a few years ago, was broken into millions of pieces on the carpet. What looked to be a large painting or portrait had been blasted off the wall and lay face down on the floor. Chairs were overturns and there was a small puddle of blood by an armchair that made Hermione's stomach turn over.

"Don't worry-"

"I wasn't," muttered Hermione automatically, because she wasn't, _she really wasn't_ –

_Weren't you?_

"Don't worry, the blood is just dragon blood," said Harry smoothly, as if there had been no interruption.

Suddenly, Ron stepped into Hermione's line of vision, looking anxious.

"I'm fine," Hermione said loudly, just as Ron had opened his mouth to, no doubt, comment on Hermione.

"Fine," she repeated as Harry began to say something. Ron still looked unconvinced. Harry was frowning. "Look, what do you want me to do here?" she asked wearily. "If there's nothing, I'll leave."

"We just need an extra set of hands to help with the forensics and the evidence." Ron said hastily.

"Especially with searching the rest of the Manor, see, it's quite big," said Harry, half-smiling.

"Alright then," said Hermione, "Let's search the Manor."

* * *

"Well, that room's clear," said Ron tiredly. "I'm starting to think that we'll never be finished."

"Of course we will," said Hermione. "How many rooms have we got left, Harry?"

"Er... Nine? Give or take a few."

Ron groaned. "Please, can we have a break? I'm hungry." Solidifying his excuse, Ron's stomach yowled like a lion in pain.

"You can," said Harry. "Hermione and I will finish the next room, and then we'll join you."

With a wave, and a small shake of his head, Ron departed, leaving Harry and Hermione at the door of yet another room. Hermione's heart skipped a beat, for this door bore a slightly tarnished nameplate: _Draco Malfoy_.

"Oh, great," she heard Harry mutter. Hermione knew he was watching her, again. She was suddenly grateful Ron had left.

This doesn't mean anything, she thought, this doesn't mean _a thing_, it's been two years since you've been in here last, it doesn't mean _anything_, _it doesn't_-

Forcing against the surge of memories that had started to rise again, she laid her hand on the doorknob, and twisted it. Locked.

"Hermione-"

"_Alohomora_." The door swung open with the tiniest click.

"Hermione-"

"No!" Hermione snapped. "I'm _fine_."

Harry was still. He looked hesitant. It irritated her hugely.

"Let's just go in," said Hermione shortly, striding into the dark room. With a flick of her wand, the curtains opened, letting some light stream in.

The room was, typically, of Slytherin décor. As Hermione looked around, she saw that the room had hardly changed in the last two years. The Slytherin Quidditch team picture was still there, the bed looked the same, and the picture of Draco, Crabbe and Goyle was still attached to the wall.

Without more protest, Harry started to examine the right side of the room. Following his lead, Hermione proceeded to examine the bed area.

It took Hermione a while to fully determine what was under Draco's bed, as it was so large. She eventually popped her head back up and said, "There is some seriously questionable stuff down here Harry. For someone who only used to come back to the Manor every once in a while, you would think they would have cleaned it in the time he was gone!"

Harry smiled, as if he'd expected nothing less. "Anything dangerous?"

"No, I don't think so," said Hermione, looking under the bed again. "Just some old Potions ingredients, I think, and an old textbook. Oh, and some old clothes, shirts, pants, socks, those sort of things."

"Socks could be dangerous," said a voice from the door. Hermione withdrew her head and saw Ron standing by the door, holding a plate full of sandwiches.

"Courtesy of Narcissa Malfoy," Ron said, walking towards Harry. "She just arrived a few minutes ago with a friend. She said she doesn't care what we do to the rooms."

"Excellent," said Harry, grinning. "Let's trash the place!"

"Though I'm not sure her food is perfectly safe to eat," Ron muttered, frowning.

"Harry!" Hermione scolded, chucking a random sock in Harry's direction. "Ron, Narcissa is perfectly sane... now."

Harry, unfortunately, successfully dodged the sock that went flying at his head. "I was joking Hermione!"

"Yeah, well," said Hermione defensively. Her eyes fell to Draco's bedside table, and she frowned.

"What's up?" Ron asked, striding towards her.

In answer, Hermione picked up the stack of parchment that rested on the table. She just made out the word on the front page, and then she dropped them suddenly and shot her arm back, as if the parchment had burnt her. She looked at her hand, and saw no sign of burns or any kind of harm. So the pain was in her mind.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Ron lurch forward, as if to grab the stack of parchment. Hermione held out an arm, blocking him. "Don't," she yelled, panic rising like a tidal wave that threatened to bowl her over. "It's for me!"

By now, Harry had joined the two of them and was peering curiously over Hermione's shoulder. "First, what _is_ it?"

"Notes," choked Hermione. The answer rose to her lips as if they had always been there. "Notes for me."

She couldn't tear her eyes away from her name sprawled across the parchment. It was binding. Constricting.

Hermione couldn't explain to the others why seeing her name written on parchment had such an impact on her. It was just a feeling, a simple instinctive feeling that those notes had been waiting there for her. That Hermione was supposed to come to Draco's room, and find them.

"Hermione," said Ron tentatively, breaking her thoughts. "Before you get all, you know, worked up over this, don't you want to know what's written inside first?"

Hermione struck out an arm to grab them, but this time Harry stopped her.

"Wait," he told her. "They could have some sort of curse placed upon them. And according to you, these _were_ placed for you."

"If there were curses on it, I would already be affected by now," Hermione pointed out quietly, remembering her unmarked hand. "I picked it all up before." With that, she held out an arm and picked up the pieces of parchment. Without a word, the three of them sat down together on Draco's bed. Hand shaking, Hermione grasped the first sheet of parchment bearing her name and, with Harry and Ron, started to read.

* * *

Did you like it? I'm in a love/hate relationship with this chapter. It felt a little choppy, it probably was, considering I haven't written a fanfic in a good couple of years. But hang tight, drabbles are coming your way!

Reviews make me write faster :3

x


	2. Veritaserum

I got Draco Malfoy drunk last night. It's amazing the secrets he spills when he has too much firewhiskey. And maybe a few drops of Veritaserum thrown in for good measure.

A lot of secrets were about you.

Oh sure, there were others. Fairly insignificant stuff. How much he regretted during his Death Eater days, how there was a small part of him that hated what his father had become. The time he tried to convince his mother to run away with him, his father squashed that idea quickly and harshly. When he _almost_ asked you to dance at the Yule Ball.

I bet Potter and Weasley are there, next to you. They probably think they know all that went on between you and Draco.

That illusion is going to be shattered.

Did they ever know that you very nearly became Mrs. Hermione Malfoy? Did you fail to mention that when you ran back into Ronald Weasley's arms? Weasley didn't need an explanation, he accepted you in your broken state without question.

You've been trying to bury the past. He's been trying to heal. You wanted to forget, he wanted to forgive. Neither of you could do either of those.


	3. Affiliation

Draco covered up his crush for you with cutting remarks and name-calling. When you slapped him in third-year, he was secretly thrilled. He finally found a girl who was strong, who stood her ground, who didn't let anyone push her around, nothing like that absolute fuckwit Pansy Parkinson.

He envied you for your intelligence, your quick thinking. Before he knew what your parentage was like, he thought you should have been in Slytherin. But then his father talked to him about the things he had been drilling into Draco's head all his life: Muggle-borns were scum and they didn't deserve to be affiliated with true wizards, in other words, purebloods, for Lucius Malfoy had heard of a brilliant young witch in his son's year at Hogwarts who was born to a pair of Muggle dentists. Lucius Malfoy explained everything about his twisted view on life during those Christmas holidays. But when Draco developed his first ever crush during first year, all the stanzas he had grown up with flew out of his mind. He didn't care that she were best friends with Harry Potter.

All that mattered was that pretty, bushy-haired girl in his year at Hogwarts.


	4. Like A Broken Record

You loathed him; he could see that in the glare you frequently sent his way. Draco had never seen an expression of complete tenderness directed towards him on your face when you were at school together. There may have been moments of partial softening on your part, but they never lasted long.

Like when you caught him looking at Katie Bell with guilt etched on his gaunt face. When you looked at him eye to eye for the first time since Harry cursed him. But like I said; they never lasted.

Draco never hated you. You annoyed him frequently, you annoyed everyone around him frequently, and you had an irritating habit of reinforcing the rules that he didn't care to obey. But he never hated you.

He didn't tell Lucius about his crush, though he often suspected that Lucius knew something. Every time Lucius pulled out his 'Mudbloods are scum,' speech, it got more urgent and intense.

Whenever Draco caught himself casually glancing at you in class, he would force himself to face the front, playing his father's words in his head, over and over.

"_Shouldn't even be at Hogwarts... Deterioration of the school's reputation... Sullying us Purebloods with their filthiness..."_


	5. Tearstains

"Why don't you go see him?"

"Because I don't want to, Hermione," Draco crossed his arms. A frown appeared on his face.

"Stop being a baby, _Draco,_" you said, in a silly mocking voice.

"I'm not."

"Yes, you are! He's your father. He deserves a second chance. And besides-,"

"Hermione, he almost ruined _everything_. Do you really want him back in our lives?"  
"Well, at least see your mother. She's actually decent, and she misses you. I know she misses you," you begged him. You owed this to Narcissa, just to try. The tear stains on the last letter Narcissa had sent you were blindingly obvious.

"How would you know that?" asked Draco, flabbergasted.

"I-I... may have correspondence with her."

"Of course, why didn't I see it before? The two women in my life conspiring against me, how obvious!"

"Draco," you said, frowning.

"Hermione," Draco said, mimicking your frown.

"Look, she told me-,"

"I know what she told you! She probably told you that my father has turned a new leaf, he has successfully adapted to liking Muggles and Muggle-borns, and that he doesn't spout remarks about what a disappointing son I was anymore."

You paused. "Actually..."

"What?" Draco was very irritated now.

"Narcissa told me that your father's dying."


	6. Interruptions

"Get down on one knee, stupid."

"If you weren't crippled right now, I'd hex you so bad..." growled Draco, dropping onto one knee grudgingly.

"Even if I weren't, you'd be on the floor before you wave your wand," said the red head. "Now look at me as if you love me!"

"I don't know how Potter deals with you everyday," muttered Draco. He cast his eyes onto Ginny, trying to duplicate a look of love.

"That'll do," said Ginny. "I dare say it'll be more convincing when you actually propose."

"Of course it will, because it won't be to you."

"Funny."

"Okay." Draco cleared his throat, suddenly nervous. "I love you. I may not have always loved you-"

"Damn right," muttered Ginny.

"But I love you now. You make me laugh and you make me smile. You're damn smart, and you probably already know what I'm going to ask you-"

"Cute."

"You're beautiful without even trying. You worry about everything and you're just so effing Gryffindor. I know I'm not very good at communicating my feelings, but for you, I'd do anything."

Ginny sniffed, her eyes pooling. "Sorry, hormones."

"So, Hermione Jean Granger... Will you move in with me?"


	7. Beaming Part 1

Draco sat, waiting for the knock he never wanted to hear. But it still came.

Seeing you again, with your windswept hair and brown eyes, everything was screaming inside. You smiled; a beautiful smile and all Draco wanted to do was send you away, far away, and for you to never look back.

"Hi."

"Hi." Draco breathed back. Before you could speak, he invited you in.

Draco closed his eyes when you walked past him; you smelled exactly the same as you always had. He was waiting for the impact, because as soon as you walked into the lounge, they were all over the walls.

Draco and I. Everywhere you looked, the beaming couple secretly tore your heart away. The urge to usher you away, grew even stronger. Surely, it wasn't too late to invent a sudden appointment, a meeting?

When he turned around, his lie was ready. He wasn't ready he wasn't prepared for this. But when he saw you looking at him like _that_, his lie died on his lips.

Desperately feigning indifference, he asked you to sit. He covertly stole glances at you while you weren't looking. His will was crumbling.

But this had to be done. So, he began.


	8. Beaming Part 2

"How can I help you Draco?"

Draco was unable to hold your gaze. "You can't help me."

"Then why am I here?" you demanded. His eyes slid back to yours. "Why did you ask me to come back here?"

Draco sighed. "I just..."

"What?"

"I just needed to see you."

"How specific," you snorted. Draco was growing uneasy. "Look, if this is about your fiancée..."

"It's not," Draco said quickly. He didn't want you cottoning on so quickly. He wanted to savour those moments, where it was just you and none of me.

"Isn't it?"

Draco's silence spoke volumes.

"Look, Draco," you said. It hurt when you said his name, so you refrained from saying it too much. "Bottom line is, you love her. That is enough."

Draco tried to agree. He thought it through in his head: Yes, he did love me. But was that enough? He looked at you, trying to figure out his own feelings. There was pity in your eyes. Draco, ever the Slytherin, hated sympathy directed at him. He wasn't thinking clearly.

"It's not enough, she's not enough," he said hoarsely. His heart was pounding. "It's not enough when the girl I truly love is sitting in front of me."


	9. Beaming Part 3

You leapt to your feet, face red, and eyes wild. Draco dropped his eyes to the floor as you stormed off to the door. He heard the door open, but to his surprise, you did not advance further. Instead, the door slammed shut again and your footsteps were coming back.

Draco braced for the explosion. You stopped in the doorframe. A few tense seconds passed as you simply stood there, seething. Heat radiated from you in waves.

"What," you finally choked out through your teeth, "made you think that was a good idea?"

"Why wasn't it?" demanded Draco, standing up. The fight came back in his eyes. "Tell me why that was the wrong thing to say."

"You're engaged!" you burst, pointing a shaking finger at the ring on his hand. "You're going to get married! For heaven's sake, Draco, have you gone mad?"

"Mad with love."

You uttered a shaky laugh, halfway between elation and tears. "You're a fool."

Draco was now very close. Close enough to kiss you.

"I don't love her like I love you," he whispered, bending his forehead to yours.

Finally, you let go of all common sense, and nodded.

Then it began again.


	10. Appearances

"Draco, we have to slow down!"

"Darling, we're in public, you must refer to me as 'Malfoy'."

You wrenched your hand out of his, growling. "You are infuriating."

"And you are going to reveal the nature of our relationship," said Draco, looking over his shoulder with that maddening smirk.

Fresh from a tryst in the Room of Requirement, you were young, careless and guilty. "Slughorn's going to be suspicious," you gasped, trying to keep up with Draco's long strides. "We're going to be late, our faces are red and your hair is sticking up everywhere."

"I can fix that," he replied. "But don't bother with your hair, it normally looks like that." His bark of laughter drowned out your snarl, as you started going down the dizzying staircase to the dungeon.

"Wait," Draco said, suddenly stopping and turning, his eyes hard. "We need to appear separately. You go first." He knew he hurt your feelings, but he needed to keep up public appearances. He couldn't risk whatever was left of his tattered reputation.

"Fine." you said harshly, avoiding his eyes. Then you stalked past him, and you were suddenly Hermione Jean Granger, war heroine again, and Draco Malfoy's lover was left behind.


	11. Bloody Disgusting

"I heard Malfoy had some fun last night."

The spoon slipped from your grasp, clattering loudly on the floor.

Harry sighed: "Of course he did. Who was it?"

"No one knows for sure, except for Malfoy himself," said Ron. "And he might have been so wasted, he wouldn't've known either." You emerged from under the table, trying to conceal your deepening embarrassment.

"Would have been some Slytherin slag," grunted Harry. "He wouldn't have gone for anyone else."

"It's bloody disgusting," said Ron. "At least it wasn't Hermione. Or Ginny. I wouldn't be able to be in the same room as you otherwise."

"That's nice," you snapped. "Good to know you would abandon a seven year long friendship over the possibility of a one night stand."

"I didn't mean it like that," said Ron quickly. "I was just saying..."

You caught him looking at you, from over Ron's shoulder. He seemed amused, as if he heard the conversation.

"Never mind," you said, looking away from Draco. "It's in the past."

"Although," said Harry thoughtfully. "I do hope it wasn't Ginny. I should..."

"Harry, please. No Gryffindor would have sex with Draco Malfoy."

He was still smirking when you looked back at him.


	12. Toneless

You were outside the Great Hall when it happened.

He kissed you.

Long.

_He kissed you._

_Outside the Great Hall._

Made eye contact over Harry's shoulder, and then you both left lunch and went outside the Great Hall.

"Do we have enough ti-," you were whispering when he grabbed your shoulders, spun you to face him, and kissed you.

Your mind was a blur, a Draco filled blur. It was too passionate; it was for too long.

When you finally had enough sense to realise where you were (you were _outside_ the _Great Hall_) and what you were doing, (_Draco Malfoy _was _kissing you_) you pushed him off you. Your ears strained for any gossip, shocked gasps, perhaps emanating from the Hall. You couldn't check visually: what if people were looking back?

"What," you hissed, pulling him to a more secluded area, "the _hell_ was that?"

Your anger faded when you noticed how lifeless his eyes were.

He said tonelessly: "I just wanted to try something."

A surge of noise indicated that lunch was over. The students were leaving, Draco amongst them. He had left silently and left you gaping.

"Hermione?" said a voice. "What were you doing with Malfoy?"


	13. Toneless Part 2

"Ron, please! I can explain-"

"No, you can't," shot Ron. Harry was visibly perplexed, having walked in on the worst argument you and Ron ever had. "Nothing you say can excuse you for this."

You were on the edge of tears. Ron was killing you.

"Wait, what?" asked Harry, confused.

"Can we do this someplace more private?" you begged, feeling the other Gryffindors' stares.

Ron, radiating fury, led the way to an abandoned classroom. Once there, Harry immediately spoke.

"All right, spit it out." You remained silent; Ron however, couldn't hold it in.

"It's Hermione!" he spat. "She's in a relationship with Malfoy!"

"It's not a relationship!" you said desperately, tears falling. "I... I don't know what it is."

"But you're not denying it, are you Hermione?" shouted Ron.

"You didn't trust us enough to tell us?" Harry asked sadly.

"Because I knew this is how you would act!" you cried, flinging your arms up.

Suddenly, the little Sickle in your pocket vibrated. You couldn't help it: you looked down automatically, a notion that went unmissed.

"That's him, isn't it?" Ron hissed venomously. "Go on – go run to him, I know you want to."

"Fine!" you shouted, leaving the room, voice cracking. It suddenly hit you how cold it was outside.


	14. Toneless Part 3

The school was unnervingly empty as you strode through the castle. As much as you tried not to think about your best friends, they were still there.

He was already there waiting on the seventh floor. He smiled when he saw you approaching. You felt a pang when you saw how forced it was.

"Shall we?" he gestured to the Room of Requirement, taking your hand.

"Draco. Stop." You pulled your hand out of his grasp. "We need to talk. No sex."

"Wasn't planning on it anyway Granger." It stung you to hear him use your last name again. Together, you entered the Room.

"We can't do this anymore," you both said instantly. It shocked you to hear him say the same thing.

You stared at each other for a beat, before he sighed. "I have my reasons. What are yours?"

The tears were rising again. "It's just too hard." You dropped down next to him on the master bed that dominated most of the Room.

"Don't cry," he murmured, taking you in his arms. You felt a tingle as he kissed your forehead, and you swore it was the last thing you would feel for him ever again.


	15. Dream

Did that last one hurt?

Reopened some old wounds?

Some that you thought had faded away?

Even after carrying the late Malfoy heir?

Good.

I nearly had to give him more Veritaserum; it wasn't easy for him to talk about it.

I wonder if Weasley's left by now. Or maybe I've underestimated him; maybe Potter's the weaker one.

Maybe you're the weak one. Have you cried yet? From what I've heard, you cry a fair amount, despite your reputation.

Have you ever wondered what he did after you left each other the last time? When he closed the door and you turned away?

Hermione, he cried.

Draco Malfoy cried.

The last time he could remember crying was when he tried to kill atop the lightening-struck tower. But the true last time he cried, he didn't like to think about, in fact, he preferred to block it out entirely. Every time he thought about that day two and a half years ago, he felt like vomiting. And half the time, he did.

"I had a dream," he whispered last night. "And she was in it, of course, she's in all my dreams. And he was there. My dead son was there."


	16. Credit

"I showered her with gifts," he said, a serene smile crossing his face. "There wasn't a day that went by when there wasn't some small gift wrapped trinket on her desk."

"You're exaggerating," I said. I'm not going to lie; it reminded me of how little affection he showed me.

"No, I'm not," he replied, and it struck me that he was telling the truth. You would think I'm cruel and heartless, with kidnapping Draco and leaving you these shards of glass, but really, I'm like you. Broken. You just seem to be handling it better. At least I didn't have a one-night stand with Weasley.

"Blaise helped me occasionally," he continued. "It was pretty obvious that it was me, despite my best efforts."

"What kind of gifts?" I asked, a little desperately.

"Flowers," he whispered. I urged him to take another drink. He complied, and continued, voice growing stronger. "Jewellery. Unnecessary. They would have been of more use to a charity."

He turned to me suddenly, his expression sharp, too sharp for Veritaserum. When he spoke again, it only broke me further.

"You're a better person than you give yourself credit for."

"Not for long," I said, giving him more Veritaserum.


	17. Time Of The Month

"DRACO! Shit!"

Draco didn't bother to look up at your request. The sound of his quill scratching didn't cease until he heard your footsteps thundering through the apartment.

"DRACO!"

"What is it dear?" he asked wearily, tone dripping sarcasm.

"DRACO, COME HERE NOW!"

"What is it?"

"HOLY _FUCK_ DRACO, JUST GET HERE NOW."

_Must be her time of the month,_ thought Draco sourly as he left his office and followed your shrieks.

"WHAT'S TAKING SO LONG?"

He groaned loudly, making no effort to hide his irritation. He finally entered the room, bracing for the explosion.

"Hermione, what is it?"

Your back was to him, but he could see your chest heaving.

"Oh God, you're not crying are you?"

You turned around, and _oh shit, she is crying, what did I do, fuck – _

Your whole body was shaking as you clutched your wand tightly in your fist. Little sparks shot out of the end of your wand, making Draco jump. Now he was concerned. He approached you, the way you would approach a wounded animal, and touched your arm gently. The contact seemed to make you deflate a bit.

"Hermione, what's wrong?"

You smiled and took a deep breath. "Draco, I'm pregnant."


	18. Self Loathing

He was terrified. Blood thundering through him, he followed Blaise down into the dark. Did he ever tell you about his doomed trip to the deepest, darkest, most mysterious workings of the Ministry?

Of course he didn't. You never gave him the chance.

Draco told me last night how Blaise Zabini once worked at the Ministry of Magic as an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries. Draco told me how his good friend Blaise Zabini noticed something strange one day as he patrolled through the Hall of Prophecies.

You've got to be wondering where this is leading. The Hall of Prophecies, Draco Malfoy's terror, Blaise Zabini's past career, you.

Even now as I am writing this, I know he is still tortured by that day. He hates himself because he dismissed it, because he pushed it away, because it all would have been so different if he had done something.

When they reached the row Blaise had mentioned, Draco found he couldn't move anymore. It was perfectly clear even in the velvety darkness. There, sitting on the third-highest shelf was a glowing orb, the size of Draco's palm. Underneath was:

_J.P.B to E.P.B_

_Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger and unborn son_


	19. Building Blocks

"_Not all the prophecies get fulfilled Draco," she said, rolling her eyes. "There are thousands of prophecies in that Hall. Not a chance."_

* * *

"_He brings happiness now, media light shining from all angles, building blocks for the future are discovered, mixed emotions from all around the circle. The two feel nervous, excited, scared and ecstatic all as one, later tainted by the actions of those closest to them. They do not know the sex yet; but she feels, and she has learnt to trust her instincts, that he is a boy, a beautiful bouncing boy._

_It will happen around her seventh month of carriage... it will be a surprise... She will be quite unprepared... in broad daylight... alone... he sees his opportunity, and he strikes, like a snake..."_

* * *

"You think Hermione'll have a miscarriage," said Draco bluntly. It wasn't a question.

"Draco, she's pregnant five months now."

"I don't need you to tell me how long my partner's been carrying my child for," he said coldly. He put up a confident front, but inside he was scared. So scared.

"I'm just trying to look out for you," said Blaise quietly.

"I know," said Draco, and then he fled.


	20. He's Not Fighting Anymore

**Non-drabble :)**

* * *

**Ginny (Third Person Perspective)**

"Hermione?" Ginny pounded her fist on the door angrily. "Hermione, open up!"

"She's not going to let us in, just forget-,"

"No!" Ginny said forcefully, raising her fist to the door again. "She can't do this to herself, just shut herself away, just because some bitter bitch likes to make her relive some fucked up memories. No. I won't let her do this. You hear me?" She raised her voice to a yell. "I'M NOT LETTING YOU DO THIS!"

"Ginny please," Harry begged. Ginny could hear the whine in his voice, a weapon he liked to use for eroding her temper when it was at boiling point. She ignored him.

"Look, the reason why Ron hasn't spoken to you since the day Malfoy was kidnapped is because he's _fucking busy_! He's part of the group working _day and night_ to find Malfoy, and he has absolutely no time to chat! Surely, you knew that!" Still, there was silence on the other side of the door, maddening silence, silence that made Ginny want to tear her hair out.

"Ginny. Time out darling, you're turning red."

Ginny let out a huge breath and stepped back from the door, running a hand through her flaming hair. "She just won't listen!" she whispered, frustrated. "She thinks Ron's mad at her, she thinks you're mad at her, she thinks I'm mad at her-"

"The fact that you were just screaming at her while pounding on her door probably contributed to that last one," said Harry quietly.

The pair of them stood outside Hermione's bedroom door, Luna having let them in the apartment. Luna's words of wisdom – "Good luck" – now were ringing through Ginny's head.

"Go find Luna," Harry suggested. "Talking to her always calms you down."

Ginny nodded, not trusting her voice to speak. She walked away, glancing behind her at Harry who was watching her go with what she assumed was a reassuring look, but it just looked pained. When she entered the living room, she heard Harry knock on the door (a lot quieter than she did) and say something she couldn't interpret.

She found Luna sitting on a couch with her feet tucked up under her with a book on her lap titled: _The Most Effective Magic You Can Do to Counter Nargles_. Luna looked up, smiling as Ginny approached. Ginny was suddenly embarrassed, remembering that Luna was present during her rampage.

"Did it work?" Luna asked in her dreamy voice. "I'm guessing not, since you're out here and Harry's still trying to get Hermione's door to open up."

"I hate that she's smart," Ginny grumbled, sitting down next to Luna and crossing her arms in a childlike way. "She enchanted her door so heavily that it doesn't yield under _Alohomora_. Or brute force."

Luna laughed. "Sounds like her."

"The way she's acting definitely isn't like her though. Hermione from before a week ago wouldn't be doing this, she wouldn't let some crazy bitch get her down like this."

Luna untucked her feet and looked thoughtful. She was silent for minute, before replying, "Actually, I think she's been like this for a long time. She was just good at hiding it. I suppose the tidal wave of memories just broke down her barrier. It sounds crazy, but I think it's true." Ginny was quiet as she digested Luna's view. _There's some truth in it,_ her mind whispered, _Hermione never did seem to smile the same way she did two years ago._

Ginny's train of thought was broken when the sound of several locks clicking reached her ears. She heard the small creak of a door opening, and murmuring voices. She leapt off the couch and darted into the hallway, just in time to spot a mane of bushy brown hair disappearing behind the door. Harry was still in view, though his back was to her. He looked back, and shook his head very slightly – _I got this_. Then he swung the door shut behind him.

Ginny frowned, slightly disappointed. She trudged back into the living room and dropped down again in her seat.

"Harry works miracles," Luna said.

"Indeed he does," Ginny agreed, feeling tired. "I didn't think he could do it."

"Well, they have been best friends for more than a decade. They tell each other everything."

Ginny shifted, and her frown deepened. "You don't think they tell me everything?"

"Maybe some things you don't have to know. Not now, at least. I daresay Hermione'll tell you in her own time. Just like Ron will face her when he's ready."

"Ron's just busy, that's all."

"I know he's hiding. You don't have to lie to me as well, Gin. I know how much those notes hurt him; they may have hurt him more than they hurt her." Luna turned back to her book, leaving Ginny a little confused.

The two of them settled into a comfortable silence, with Luna focused on her strange book and Ginny lapsing into deep thought.

"You're right," said Ginny suddenly, surprising Luna and herself. Luna looked up from her book questioningly. "About Hermione, I mean. When you said that she hasn't been completely right for a long time. You're right. She's hasn't been right since she lost Draco has she?"

"Actually, I think it was since she lost Adrian. Draco was just the cherry on top, if you will," Luna said, dropping her book to the ground. "A really big cherry."

"_The Daily Prophet_'s going to have a shit," Ginny stated hollowly, staring at a patch of carpet. "Can you imagine the storm it will brew when the public founds out? About why they named him what they did?"

"All storms blow over eventually," Luna answered.

"Eventually is the key word though," Ginny sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I'm worried about now." She craned her neck and looked out at the hallway behind her. Hermione's door was still firmly shut, but now there were low voices that could be heard.

"I hear her at night sometimes," Luna said quietly, startling Ginny. Luna glanced at her, looking tormented. "She has nightmares. Awful, terrible nightmares."

"Luna, what are you-"

"And she screams," Luna continued, talking as if she had never talked about Hermione's nightmares before, and it occurred to Ginny that she probably hadn't, but now that she had started it didn't seem like she could stop. "Before Draco got kidnapped, she used to scream very rarely, but in the last week she's been screaming almost every night and almost every night she apologises but it happens again the next night, and now she screams out names and she talks sometimes too-" Luna broke off, breathing heavily, her voice losing its dreamy quality.  
"And the second half of those notes are still there, they're still sitting on her bedside table, and I don't understand why she doesn't throw them out. They're poisonous. She tortures herself because she knows that there are more things, things that the kidnapper hasn't even touched on yet, but she knows that they're in the second half, and she kills herself by keeping them, and I would do something, believe me. If I had my way they would be incinerated by now, but she made me swear that I wouldn't touch them. She said she would read them when she is ready, but honestly I don't think she can unless she has Ron and Harry next to her. But Ron really can't be in the same room as her now, and I don't know when he _can_ be. Not to mention Draco's still missing, and she's worried sick over the fact that he's still gone, and Kingsley forbade her to go looking for him, and Harry definitely doesn't want Hermione anywhere near the operation and Ron – whatever he might be feeling now – doesn't want her hurt either. I can see it in her eyes Ginny; I can see the pain in her eyes everyday because she's not over him is she? She loved him with all she had and more and she _still _does, and whatever she may say or do, she is still hurting over her child. Even though it's been two years she still can't look at a baby items store without flinching." Luna let out a deep breath, looking extremely relieved. She looked down at her hands, leaving Ginny speechless.

"I'm sorry," said Luna finally, smiling half-heartedly. It didn't stay on her face for long though; it slid off her face almost as soon as it appeared. "I've just witnessed all of it but I've never talked about it..."

"It's okay," murmured Ginny, wrapping her arm around Luna and pulling her close. "It'll be over soon." _Hopefully._

"I'm not worried about me," said Luna. "I'm worried about her."

Ginny sighed. "Me too."

* * *

**Hermione (Third Person Perspective)**

"Please tell me those aren't what I think they are."

"Harry..."

"No. I dare you. Tell me."

"I wouldn't expect you to understand."

"Try me."

Hermione didn't know what to say. She opened her mouth several times, and closed them again like a fish. She was regretting letting him in already. The worst thing was that Harry didn't sound angry, he just sounded disappointed.

"Hermione," Harry said. "Please talk to me. You won't talk to Ginny, you won't talk to Luna, and Ron-"

"Don't start about Ron," interrupted Hermione harshly. "Ron can come see me whenever he wants too, it's not my fault that he's an immature prick."

"He's just hurt Hermione," said Harry quietly, his gaze subtly pointed.

"I'm not hurt," snapped Hermione, narrowing her eyes. "I just want to be alone."

Harry laughed out loud without humour. "Are you listening to yourself Hermione? You sound like the teenager you never were! Sitting in your room alone, pushing people away, acting like nothing happened..."

"If you're just going to insult me, you may as well leave," said Hermione defensively, ignoring the dull throb Harry's words brought. "I don't need this now."

"You are!" said Harry incredously, as if only just realising himself. "Oh, God! This is exactly how you were acting after you lost-" He broke off mid-sentence, suddenly scared as Hermione flinched instinctively.

"Oh sweet Merlin, Hermione, I'm sorry," whispered Harry. "I didn't think, I wasn't thinking, no, I don't know what I was thinking..." Hermione just nodded numbly, not trusting her voice. She felt like she had been punched in the stomach by an iron fist. Harry almost said his name. _Harry almost said his name_. Thoughts swirled around Hermione's mind, leaving toxic trails behind them. Hermione stomach churned as she remembered _The Daily Prophet_. It was bad enough the first time, but now that her past had been dragged up again...

But to hear Harry carelessly throwing it into conversation was the worst. Even though he didn't mention the specific name, the intent was all too clear. Hermione felt queasy when she remembered the front-page news on the _Prophet _and the headline it carried the day after Draco was taken. Luna had seen it first, and had tried to hide it from her. Hermione shuddered; hating the feeling that headline had given her.

Harry was still looking at her with maddening concern. He had, at least, stopped his attempts at a feeble apology. "Hermione, if you'd rather I left..."

"No," Hermione croaked, initially out of politeness. She continued speaking when she realised she was telling the truth. "I don't want to you go. Sorry. I'm just a bit... under the weather at the moment."

"It's not obvious," mumbled Harry. He sighed, looking at something over Hermione's shoulder. "Merlin, Hermione, why do you still have those?"

"I'm curious," Hermione said, a little coldly. "I never did get to finish reading them since Ron went crazy and fled with his tail between his legs. Not to mention it's about the only thing Kingsley has neglected to forbid me from."

"He's just looking out for you," said Harry.

"I don't need anyone looking out for me!" Hermione exploded. "I mean, what does he expect? I go out with the other Aurors looking for Draco, and I have some crazy flashback and murder everyone within a one kilometre radius?"

"I don't like it much more than you do," Harry shot back. "Believe me, I was part of the group who was fighting _for you_. Even Professor McGonagall had a say-"

"So then how is it that you didn't win?"

"Hermione, it was pandemonium. While Luna took you home, Ron, Ginny, a handful of other Aurors and I had a meeting with Kingsley. When Kingsley's decision to 'remove' you from the situation reached the _Prophet_, Professor McGonagall was there, at the Ministry, shouting Kingsley down. I'm sure you saw the headline that day." Colour tinted Harry's face. "Anyway, Ron seemed to have transposed his... anger and hurt into a super persuasive tornado in his favour. Despite all the protests, none of us could have denied what Ron said."

"Don't tell me," groaned Hermione, knowing instantly. "He used personal information."

"Ugh, yes. It was hard even for me to hear it all hashed out. It was painful."

"Good thing I wasn't there," said Hermione. "I probably would have torn his throat out."

"Ginny was one second away from doing that," said Harry with a little smile. His eyes flitted back to Hermione's. "It wasn't easy for him though, Hermione."

"I know." And despite all the anger and hurt she was feeling towards Ron, she did.

"He was doing it for you."

Hermione bit back her retort, and simply nodded.

Harry sighed again. "Though I won't deny that there probably was some sort of personal gratification involved."

"Of course." Hermione didn't expect any less.

"I was talking to him yesterday," Harry added tentatively after a short pause. "He misses you, Hermione."

Hermione groaned, wincing. "And I miss him, Harry, but I can't talk to him if he refuses to listen..."

"He's not fighting anymore," said Harry softly. "He wants to see you but I think he's scared of what might be said if he does. That, and the fact that he _is _busy searching for your..."

"Right," Hermione agreed, nodding. Harry swung his feet round and off the bed and stood up stiffly, Hermione following. Harry beckoned her for a hug, and she complied.

"Try to stay positive," was murmured against her hair as they embraced. "Don't bother with the _Prophet_, if anything big happens you'll get an owl from us. Ron will come around, he just needs time, and _don't worry, _Hermione. Don't shut us out."

They left Hermione's bedroom, and went into the living room, where Ginny and Luna were cured up on the couch, studying a strange book Hermione vaguely remembered Luna buying it some time ago, insisting that it would be of good use. Since it seemed to have distracted Ginny from kicking down her door earlier, Hermione finally agreed.

Ginny looked up at Hermione and Harry's approach, smiling a little sheepishly as her eyes landed on Hermione.

"Hermione, about before-" she started.

"Forget about it," Hermione said. "Its fine."

"Well then, if you're sure..." Ginny stood and breathed in deeply. "Think about it this way, at least the public doesn't know the story behind his name."

"Exactly," Luna chimed. "That, and at last Hermione has started to leave her room for meals!"

"Very funny," said Hermione, rolling her eyes, ignoring the dull throb.

"I suppose there isn't any way to get Kingsley to change his mind?" Luna asked, breaking Hermione from her thoughts. Ginny made an angry noise.

"I don't anything would make a difference, except maybe if Ron took back his statements-" Harry began.

"Unlikely."

"-Or if Hermione made a personal appeal...?" Harry's question hung in the air, the silence solidifying by the second. Luna, Ginny and Harry were all looking at Hermione, varied expressions on each face: Ginny was reluctant, fearful even, Harry was hopeful, expectant, and Luna looked worried.

Hermione cleared her throat, feeling self-conscious. She didn't know how to feel about Harry's proposition, except her instant gut feeling that it would be the only thing to make any difference to Kingsley's decision, Ron's input taken in or not.

Luna was the first to break the silence, glancing at her watch and crying, "Ginny, it's almost time for you to go have dinner with your mother!"

Ginny gave a guilty start, glanced at her own watch and tugged on Harry's sleeve. "Luna's right, we should go."

Harry nodded. Hermione watched him wave to Luna then he gave Hermione a pointed look. After Ginny hugged her goodbye, Ginny and Harry left the house and, with a loud crack, Apparated. Hermione and Luna stood by the door for moment, quiet.

"I'm hungry," said Luna chirpily. She flashed a quick smile. "I feel like Indian, what about you?"

Hermione stared at her, marvelling at how normal Luna was acting. It felt like an eternity before Hermione answered, "Indian's good."

* * *

"_Who's calling by at this time of night?"_

"_Maybe its another drunk?"  
_

_"Harry, you sound like you hope it is."  
_

_"Maybe he does, Gin. Merlin knows it would liven things up around here."  
_

_"Will someone just open the door? It's like a tornado outside."_

"_On it."_

_The gust of wind that blew into the house when Ron opened the door hit all of them like a whiplash to the face._

"_Oh my God!"_

"_Hermione!"_

"_What happened to you?"  
_

_"Never mind about that, get inside! She looks like she's going to drop dead on her feet!"_

_The last thing she saw before she surrendered to darkness were the only three faces that she wanted to talk to, but couldn't._

"_I still don't understand how she got into this state."_

"_Frankly, I don't even care, I know it's that bastard's fault."  
_

_"Please," croaked Hermione unexpectedly, opening her eyes painfully. She was lying on someone's bed with a thumping headache. Three faces swam into view. She pushed herself up, propping herself on her elbows. "Please don't."_

"_Fine," Harry swallowed, looking reluctant. "But it was, wasn't it?"_

"_Harry," Ron warned._

_Ginny heaved a sigh and sat down on the bed, sounding impatient. "What did he do this time?"  
_

_"Nothing," coughed Hermione quickly, despising herself at how fast she jumped to defend him. "I mean... yeah, he..."_

"_He didn't hurt you?" asked Ron quietly, his face darkening._

_Hermione, reading his mind, recoiled. "No, Ronald! He would never! No, we just... I just... I mean, we both said things... that we didn't mean."_

"_Speak for yourself," muttered Harry from the corner of the room._

_Ginny threw him a dark look, hushing him. "What things, Hermione?"  
_

_Hermione glanced between the three of them and felt like icy cold water had spread like wildfire through her body. "I'd rather not say in front of all of you."_

"_We're your friends."_

"_If you're going to talk to anyone, it should be us."_

"_You'll be upset," Hermione said._

"_Do we look like we care?" Ron asked loudly. Ginny and Harry echoed their agreement._

"_Hermione, if you don't tell us, I swear I'm Apparating straight to your apartment to see the bastard himself," Harry threatened, advancing towards his wand in his pocket. Alarm bells went off in Hermione's head._

"_No-" she burst. She took a deep breath. "You need to hear it from me, anyway. Draco-" she ignored the small sharp burst of pain, "Draco – its probably best if you don't see him." There was a rather pointed silence as the others waited for Hermione to continue._

"_It was over the smallest thing," said Hermione. "It's no secret that the last year wasn't the easiest thing-"_

"Hermione!"

"_- In the world. I think he was bottling it up-"_

"Hermione, wake up!"

"_- And I wasn't in a good mood either, and one thing lead to another-"_

"HERMIONE!"

The sound of water splashing and someone gasping woke Hermione up. She had a vague idea that the person gasping was herself.

"Sorry," said Luna, grimacing, her pale hands gripping the edges of the dripping wet bucket. "But I couldn't get you to wake up."

Hermione shivered and raised a hand to her cheek. Her hand came back wet, and cold. She flopped back on her bed, regretting it instantly as her thinly veiled back came in contact with ice-cold water. She shot straight back up.

"Why couldn't you have used warm water?" Hermione complained, wrapping her slightly damp blanket around her.

"Sorry," Luna repeated, "Hermione, you were talking again."

"Of course I was," groaned Hermione, "Can you guess what memory decided to pay me a visit tonight?"

"Staying over at Ginny and Harry's house after the fight?"

"It's sad how quickly you got it right," said Hermione.

"Try to get to sleep," said Luna tiredly, rubbing her eye and stifling a yawn. "You've got your first day back at work tomorrow, remember?"

"Don't remind me," said Hermione, searching for her wand. When she found it, she waved it twice over her bed and herself, and she was instantly dry again.

"Not to mention Ron will be there."

"Not helping, Luna."

"Right. Goodnight."

* * *

Hermione woke up in the morning confused. In a sudden rush that made her dizzy, the night's events threatened to overcome her. The sound of bacon sizzling broke Hermione from her stupor. She climbed out of her bed clumsily and paid a visit to the bathroom. Afterwards, she got into her dusty Ministry robes, feeling terribly out of place. She stared at herself in her mirror, frowning at her appearance. It didn't seem to fit her like it used to, though it had only been a week since she had last worn it. It felt too heavy and itchy. Hermione picked at her collar, willing it to be bigger. She sighed and told herself, _you're being stupid, it's exactly the same as before_. She grabbed her wand and slipped on her shoes. Before Hermione left her room, she stole one last glance at her mirror. Her eyes flickered uneasily as they slid over her reflection. Hermione was already regretting her choice to return to work.

"There you are," sang Luna without turning around as Hermione entered the dining room. She was busy with cooking, her wand obeying her commands. "I was just going to wake you up, you're going to be late!"

"I don't even know if I'm still going," Hermione confessed, sitting down at the table. "I really don't feel like it."

"You're not going to make it out of the door with that attitude," said Luna, placing food on the table. "Just think of all the work that's just sitting on your desk, begging to be done... and think of how behind you are Hermione..."

"Don't say anything else," cried Hermione, wolfing down bacon and eggs with a newfound energy. She leapt up and rinsed her mouth out in the bathroom.

"Have a good day at work!" Luna called as Hermione strode past determinedly.

"When are you going to work?" Hermione asked, stopping suddenly.

"I have to go out and interview people later, so I'm at home for most of the day."

Hermione nodded and continued walking. Once she reached the door, she flung it open and breathed in the morning air. For the hundredth time during her time living with Luna, she was glad of the Anti-Disapparition Jinx they had agreed to place upon their apartment. Without it, she wouldn't have taken her first breath of fresh air in several days.

With one last glance at the place that had been both her haven and her prison, she turned on the spot, and materialised in the Ministry.

She wasn't surprised to hear her name being distributed around like a wave of whispers. As she moved forward, the whispers followed her.

"Do I have something on my face?" she muttered dryly to herself, averting her eyes. "Maybe I put my robe on backwards."

It felt like an eternity before she reached her office. Not one person had said hello along the way. She hadn't seen Harry, or Ginny. Or anyone. Even Ron would have been a welcome sight at the moment.

She heaved the door open; all the energy from breakfast had leeched out of her. Flicking her wand, the blinds snapped open and light streamed in the room. Hermione recoiled at the sight of all the unfinished work on her desk; Luna was not exaggerating. She calculated it would take most of her day to finish. Suddenly, for a moment she felt good. She felt like the old Hermione again.

Hermione was about to sit down at her desk when a knock sounded on the door.

"Come in," she called, a little surprised.

The door opened, and a red haired man walked in. Hermione didn't immediately register who it was, only a vague familiarity at the hair and the freckles. Her limbs ceased moving when she realised who was standing in her doorway.

For some reason, she automatically stood up rapidly, sending her chair flying behind her. She blushed at his slightly bewildered expression, and, pulling in her chair in, sat down again. Her eyes dropped down onto her desk and beads of sweat broke through her skin on her hands. Hermione glanced up tentatively at Ron, then regretting it.

No one spoke for a little bit. Hermione was going insane in her head with the silence. Hermione was just going to break the silence when Ron finally spoke.

"Paylor thought I should give you an update on the Malfoy case," he muttered, keeping his eyes downcast. Clearly, he expected, or hoped, that Hermione hadn't returned to work yet. He was clutching a piece of parchment, which Hermione noticed, had crease marks on it from someone holding it too tightly.

"Right," said Hermione hoarsely. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Right. Well. Thanks, Ron." His name felt like thorns in her throat. She suddenly wondered if she hated Ron or Draco more.

Ron nodded his head and stepped forward, barely within arms reach of the desk, and let the parchment float onto the desk. He had turned around and was about to leave when Hermione cried out.

_If you don't say something, he's going to walk out that door and never come back_, floated up into her mind from somewhere deep inside. So she cried out, "Wait! Don't – don't leave!" Her hip knocked into her desk painfully as she attempted to follow him. She breathed in and out rapidly, pushing a stray hair behind her ears.

"Please," she said. "Sit down."

He complied, looking bewildered, and a little afraid.

"I think we need to talk," she began.

"And I think it's time for my lunch break!" he said, making a move to leave.

"Ron," she said sternly. "Its eight o clock in the morning." He slumped back into his seat, defeated.

Hermione stared at him determinedly until Ron looked back. When he did, he sighed.

"All right. What is it?"

"Why didn't you come talk to me?" demanded Hermione. She was focused and steady; she wanted answers and she did not want to beat around the bush.

"I was busy!" Ron answered defensively.

"That didn't stop you from seeing Harry every other day," Hermione snapped, face reddening.

"All right, I didn't want to, okay?" He snapped angrily, turning red himself. "I couldn't face you!"

"How brave of you," Hermione said sarcastically. She knew she was being petty, but she didn't care enough to stop. Here was a whole week of pent up aggression and anger flowing out.

"If you were in my position, you would be doing the same, I'm sure!"

"What, using Harry as an owl and avoiding my best friend for something they couldn't control?"

"You talked to Harry just as much as I did!" Ron said brusquely.

"Just like you talked to Kingsley, right Ron?" Hermione said harshly, feeling a weird satisfaction in Ron's following silence.

Finally, Ron said, "I did it for you."

"Yeah, I know. Harry said."

"I did," Ron insisted. "Honestly, do you believe that you could handle hunting down Malfoy?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"Given your history?" Ron persisted.

"With everything taken into account, _Ronald_," Hermione spat. "Whether or whether not I could attend that mission in a professional matter, it was _still_ none of your business. Whatever happened between Draco and I is private. What happened between _us_ is private. You had no right using it for your own freakish personal gratification."

"Do you think I liked doing that?" shouted Ron. "Do you really think I liked basically dissecting you? You are my best friend Hermione! I would have never done it were there have been any other way, you know that."

"There were other ways!" yelled Hermione, banging her fist on the desk. "You could have talked to me Ron! We could have worked this out together! But no, you went behind my back to Kingsley and prevented me from doing the one thing I want to do!"

"From what I heard, you weren't in much of a state to 'work things out'," Ron retorted. "Is it true Luna had to send food to your door?" When Hermione didn't respond, he went on further. "I knew you weren't over him," he laughed bitterly. "From the second you knocked on my door, drenched head to toe, I knew. I was nothing but a rebound, right?"

"Ron, you know that's not true," groaned Hermione. "You just said it yourself, you are my best friend. I was just really... emotional and lonely, and you were just there, and I'm sorry..."

"I don't want your apology," said Ron tiredly. All the fight had sagged out of him, leaving him seemingly defeated. Hermione thought privately that angry was better. "I want to ask you something."

"Ask away."

"Did you ever love me?"

Hermione pursed her lips, sadness etching into her features. Of course he was going to ask that. She looked at him in pity, at his tired frame and the way he stared at his hands almost abashedly. Hermione took their relationship in her head, and surveyed it, almost shamefully. She remembered all their fights, all their screaming matches, how their tempers had snapped repeated times. They screamed awful, awful things at each other. She remembered all the good times too. Growing up with him and Harry at Hogwarts. Though their adolescence probably wasn't considered the norm, she still loved every second of it.

And when her and Ron's particular relationship had advanced after Hogwarts. But that was after...

She remembered how much Ron had hurt her over the years, intentionally or not. Compared to how many times Hermione had broken him, they were even.

All of her memories flashed in one second, and Hermione was back to reality. Ron was sitting in front of her, angry but sad, having requested information Hermione could not hand over easily.

The answer seemed to rise to Hermione's lips simply. Of course she loved him. She still loved him. But somehow, Hermione didn't think that was enough.

"I still do," she answered brokenly, her voice catching. Ron just looked at her, and even then Hermione could see just how much she had crushed him.

"And I believe you," was all he said. Ron glanced at the clock and shook his head ruefully. It was quarter to nine. "I really should go. Paylor will be wondering where I am. Though," he said thoughtfully, rising from his chair. "I think she suspects something. I mean, there were four other available Aurors without much to do. Any of us could have delivered the message to you."

"Then I'm glad she picked you," said Hermione tenderly, standing too. She pulled him in for a tight hug, and he kissed her on the forehead.

"So we're okay now?" he asked, stepping back, nearing the door.

"We're okay," Hermione confirmed.

Ron smiled listlessly and left.

Hermione felt as if a load she didn't know was there had lifted. Now that her relationship with Ron had (partially) been repaired, she felt light. Not heavy and despondent, like the past week, but light and carefree.

The amount of work piled on her desk brought her back down to earth. Even though she normally enjoyed having something solid to work at, this was in an entirely different category. As she shifted aside pieces of parchment, she remembered the reason of Ron's arrival. Hermione picked up the parchment he had been carrying gingerly. It read:

_DRACO MALFOY: STATUS REPORT_

_Noticeable signs of disturbances in the Malfoy Manor, especially in the living room. The only room apart from the room where Malfoy was abducted that was altered was Malfoy's bedroom and his bathroom, where traces of Polyjuice Potion was discovered, with remnants of Blaise Zabini's hair. Auror Bilsworth was the one to discover the note sent to Malfoy under Zabini's name, requesting Malfoy meet him for a chat, presumably the night before Malfoy's abduction. The restaurant named in the note proved a dead end. The Auror office later received a note from an anonymous sender stating, "_You won't find anything there. How about you try the little cabin by the Forest of Dean?_" Two groups of Aurors advanced forth to the Forest of Dean, immediately finding spots of blood on the walls and the porch. The cabin was, predictably, completely empty. The Auror office is currently searching for more leads within the cabin and all areas surrounding it. Blaise Zabini has also been taken into questioning._

Before any emotions had the chance to rise in Hermione, another piece of parchment, this one considerably smaller, fluttered down from Hermione's hand holding the report. It must have been underneath it.

Heart pounding, Hermione picked it up with shaking hands and desperately hoped...

_You've been avoiding me Hermione. So I brought these over to your office. It's been too long._

Hermione slowly looked down at a particular pile of parchment, previously disregarding it as a stack of post it notes. How more wrong could she be?

The top piece was the next fragment of Hermione's destruction.

* * *

**I'm sorry it took so long to get out. For some reason, the words didn't want to come out! But I finally strung together a hopefully all right chapter, and now here we are. Hope you liked it; hope you picked up the subtle hints here and there. Drabbles coming your way!**

**x**


	21. Holidays

When I saw Draco Malfoy again for the first time since the Battle of Hogwarts, do you remember, I was in Italy. His excuse for being in Italy was a 'holiday, after studying so hard in school'. It was during a dinner party arranged by a mutual friend who thought my life could do with some spicing up.

He seemed like a replenished man, though I later learned he was anything but. Talking to everyone in fluent Italian and English, laughing, smirking and being utterly charming. But in those rare moments when he was alone with a drink in hand, the smile, the glow, the charm seeped out of him, and there stood an unrecognisable person.

When it was my turn to be introduced, it was a politely awkward conversation, created by our mutual friend who hovered at the edge clearly pushing at something. When she left, realisation broke through.

"You're that girl, aren't you?"

"Be a bit more specific than that, Mr Malfoy."

"From Hogwarts, that one in Ravenclaw." He looked down, abashed. "Forgive me, I can't think of a name to match your face."

"Why don't we take a walk Mr Malfoy? To refresh your memory?"

"Please... call me Draco."


	22. Watch This Space

_TROUBLE IN PARADISE FOR MALFOY AND GRANGER reports Emma Dawlish_

_Reports have surfaced recently concerning the former Death Eater Draco Malfoy and war heroine Hermione Granger. Sources tell the _Prophet_ of the storm that has been brewing over the couple's heads all because of an old friend of Malfoy's, Theodore Nott._

_Nott, 22, son of a widowed Death Eater, was a Slytherin during his time at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and we all know of the house's formidable reputation. Under suspicion of Dark acts, Nott did not return to Hogwarts after the Dark Lord fell. His seemingly random attack on Blaise Zabini last year landed him in Azkaban, before infamously breaking out._

_With half the Aurors combing the country for Nott, he seems to have left another message, in form of a threat. Malfoy and Granger, who are expecting their first child, received a talking Patronus late last night, carrying a foreboding message. Despite the _Prophet_'s efforts, the message itself could not be recovered for media use, but us at the _Prophet_ feel as if this won't be the last we hear of Nott. Watch this space!_


	23. Familiarity

"Draco, you've been awfully quiet," said Astoria Greengrass shrilly. Draco turned away from the general conversation in their compartment and faced the landscape flashing by. The rattling of the train, the murmurs of students passing the door and Astoria Greengrass' insistent shrieking all contributed to Draco's growing irritation. The small glance of bushy brown hair as it whipped past their compartment door didn't help. Especially when a flash of familiar ginger hair followed that glance. Did you know he was there? Did you care?

"Draco, are you even listening?" asked Astoria sharply, forcing Draco to turn away from the window. "You're always off in your own little world Draco, honestly..." Draco tuned out the rest of her sentence, not caring to hear.

It didn't last for long though. The small group of Slytherins' babble of noise had risen to a new high. Draco found himself yearning for the moment he would depart the train and leave all them behind at King's Cross. And never look back.

He vaguely wondered who would be there to accompany him home. Then he realised he didn't care.

"I need some air," he said suddenly, rising. Before his friends could say anything, he was already gone.


	24. Memory

You take to extreme lengths to avoid your worst memory, don't you Hermione? I even heard you almost had some memories removed. Too bad it's going to be on display right now.

Draco has battled with himself for years over this. He remembers that horrible feeling that he refused to acknowledge, accompanied by Blaise's warnings. He comforted himself with the thought that the house was safe, the house had security, and you were more than able to protect yourself. So why did he still get that terrible, panging feeling whenever he thought of you sitting at home, alone?

Afterwards, he would have given everything to forget. He wanted to go back to Luna and beg her to extract the memory of her telling him everything.

The sight of Adrian Pucey's body, still warm to the touch, on the floor of his living room was enough to make Draco vomit. He was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, but the only he could really handle at that moment was the sight of his fiancée lying in a hospital bed, motionless except for the small rise of her chest. The bump in her abdomen that once wrote his future was gone.


	25. Destruction

"Are you crazy?"

_Stupid boy,_ thought Draco maliciously. _Don't you think I can hear you?_

"Ron – let me do this." Draco barely heard the grunt of assent, but he knew Ron gave it when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder.

"Astoria, what is it now?" he sighed, turning around, knowing very well it wasn't Astoria.

"Draco," you said. He stared at you for an interminable moment, you in your Muggle clothing, having stuffed your Hogwarts robes away for the last time. You cleared your throat, obviously uncomfortable. "I heard that you're going into the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Congratulations."

Draco blinked. He expected himself to be cool, and calm, and collected. Instead, he was flustered and his mind was a blank, nothing like you of course. Draco was all too aware of the way Ron watched you because it was the way he used to watch you.

"Thank you," he mumbled. "I heard you're going into Auror training. Well done."

"Yes," you responded. Draco didn't miss your eyes misting. "Good. We're both doing well."

A shard of glass seemed to pierce him inside. He hated the way you were looking at him, so he turned on his heel and left. Draco heard your stifled cry, but did not turn around. _Only eighteen years old and already leaving a path of destruction._


	26. Empty Handed

"Draco I lost him," you sobbed. "It was all so fast-" _gasp_ "And suddenly Pucey was there-"_ gasp_ "And then he was dead and everything was moving so fast-" _gasp_ "And by then I already lost him, I could feel it in my bones – _oh my God Draco he's gone, he's lost, I lost him oh my god Draco, he's gone, our baby boy is gone, and I feel so empty without him_..."  
Draco was simply sitting there, listening to your hysterics, but something seemed to have broken inside of him. He watched dully as the Healer barged into the room carrying a large needle. He didn't move when the pressure on his hand slowly diminished as your hand loosened its grip on his. Draco watched you slip into sleep, searching within for some emotion. He came back empty-handed.

"She should be quiet for the rest of the night. You should go home, get some rest Mr. Malfoy," said the Healer softly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I can't," whispered Draco. The thought of Adrian Pucey's body swam back into mind, and he knew he couldn't leave you again. Draco later hated himself for how wrong he was.


	27. Euphoria

"Be quiet! Someone will hear you!" said Draco, giving your hand a squeeze. But nothing could dampen the mood. You looked at each other, before bursting into fresh peals of laughter, young, careless and home for Christmas.

You were running and skipping, pulling Draco behind, feeling the wind through your hair. The feeling of doing something bad, something forbidden, was exhilarating. Your euphoria infected Draco, and soon he was laughing too, feeling free as he hadn't felt for ages.

Glancing behind him, he could barely make out the outline of the Manor in the distance. The thought of his father and mother sitting in a room idly made him laugh.

To you, the thought of Harry and Ron at the Burrow, surrounded by the other Weasley's made you slightly sick inside, but happy still. Because you weren't with them, you were with Draco.

The cracks began to show sometime after you had lain down, exhausted. The sun was now setting, and you remembered telling the Weasley's you'd be back from your parents at sundown. Draco remembered his father's party.

"Don't be a stranger," you whispered, kissing him. Draco answered enthusiastically, lifting you off your feet.

If only you knew someone was watching you.


	28. Judgement

The party was in full swing when Theodore reached the Manor. He was panting heavily, something that attracted the alarm of many of the party guests. His lungs felt fit to burst. He would have collapsed right there and then, but one thing kept him going. It glowed inside of him like an inexhaustible source of power.

Theo couldn't wait for the Malfoy's expressions when he told them.

He had to hurry though; Draco – or Malfoy Junior as Theo liked to call him in his head – was probably halfway to the Manor by now. Malfoy Junior was much fitter than Theo, much to his chagrin.

Theodore found he wasn't very good at multitasking as he was walking through the Manor, ignoring the many stares pointed at him, all the while trying to catch his breath. _This is the problem with having too many Slytherins in one room_, he thought. _Too much judgement in one room._

Lucius wasn't in the room, but Narcissa was. She rose expectantly, her eyes combing the empty space behind Theo.

"Where's Draco?" she asked quietly. "Couldn't you find him?"

"Oh I found him all right," said Theo mischievously. "And you won't believe what I saw."


	29. Grateful

It's no secret what kind of teenager Draco was. Even he doesn't deny it. He was a coward and he was a bully. So why did you still love him?

I understand why I loved him. He was there, I was there, he was lonely, I was lonely, and he wanted something as far away from all the Hogwarts business as he could get. And I suppose he settled for me, the girl who did everything she could to leave her old self behind. I'm sure if Draco had known who I had been, he wouldn't have touched me. But even when I was under my new name I wasn't sure. You can't forget why he had a holiday in the first place.

I never understood why he felt obligated to tell you. You broke his heart, and he broke yours, all in one day. Yeah, do I need to remind you how truthful he is when he's drunk? The only other people he told were his mother and Blaise Zabini. Them, I can understand. But you?

Well, if you think about it, I'm grateful he did. The only reason Nott went after Zabini was because he couldn't get to you.


	30. Uncomfortable Silence

Draco expected to hear shouting or angry questions or even better, a presumably jealous Weasel storming out of Potter's house, not noticing Draco standing by the door, silently laughing.

But he got none of that.

There were shouts, but not as displeased as he wanted. They were more shocked than anything else.

When you first blurted it out, there was the longest, most uncomfortable silence he had ever heard.

Draco's initial irritation at lack of action vanished when he heard a male shout, "HE'S JUST OUTSIDE THE DOOR?"

Heavy footsteps were nearing the door that was Draco's only barrier to Potter's house. Well that, and the fact you made him give his word not to barge in during this 'delicate situation'. The door flung open to reveal an entirely different face than what he expected.

You were tired and nervous, snapping, "What are you grinning at?" When he didn't immediately answer, "Well come in," was offered with a snarl. When he still didn't move, you sighed deeply. "They just want a quick chat. Sorry about all this, I'm just a bit jumpy."

Draco swallowed his retort and allowed you to lead him deeper into the Potter-Weasley home, where they were waiting.


	31. Cannon

He didn't want to attend the funeral, in fact, he would have done almost anything not to attend the funeral, but he knew inside that he would have to attend the funeral.

He guessed other funerals weren't like that one. Other funerals probably didn't have a Draco Malfoy feeling awfully out of place and completely unlike himself.

Compared to the previous days - you probably won't remember anything since you were floating in and out of consciousness, something I believe you chose for yourself – when he could think of nothing but you, it was a little refreshing. He had an excuse to think of someone else. He didn't have to drown in his overwhelming thoughts anymore.

He was right in thinking he wouldn't have to drown in his own thoughts, but he never thought about drowning in the family's feelings.

It hit him like a cannon as soon as he arrived. He tried to shut down his feelings entirely, just for the duration of the funeral, while plastering the sorriest expression he could muster on his face.

He only heard the beginning of the service. The rest was punctuated with the sounds of grieving.

"Today, we acknowledge the life of Adrian Pucey, a fine, fine wizard who lived live to the fullest."


	32. Recognise

You can't think poor Pucey's unfortunate demise so long ago was your fault. Really, it was his. No one asked him to fight back the Imperius Curse, he just did. No one asked him to jump in, trying to be the densest hero in the world. He could have been like Goyle; he could have lived a little longer. Goyle died too, later, just because Theo didn't trust him. Honestly, Goyle was too slow to have fought off any Curse so I don't even know why Theo bothered. At least he cursed Goyle properly, unlike Pucey. Now I think Theo knew he didn't do it properly, that's why he ordered Goyle to 'kill anyone who gets in your way'.

It's hard to believe that we went to school with you. I was there when you saved the Stone, when you were Petrified, when Harry formed the D.A, all of it. Of course, I was in the D.A., while it lasted.

If you have correctly guessed who I am by now, then I am genuinely surprised. Really. As you know, I changed my name, my looks and my location. Even Draco Malfoy didn't recognise me.


	33. Vocabulary

It is not in Draco Malfoy's vocabulary to be afraid of any Weasley, or Potter, so when he was faced with two unnervingly calm former childhood enemies, he too was calm. The only one who was definitely not calm was you.

To be afraid of a Potter or a Weasley in any way felt automatically wrong, like he was disobeying his father all over again.

"So you've decided to crawl your way back into our lives, have you?"

"_Ron_."

"Come back for more," added Harry.

"Not done with us," said Ron.

"We don't mind," said Harry.

"Please, continue to exist in our lives," said Ron.

"It's not like we kind of didn't want to see you again."

"We _always_ want to see you."

Draco smirked. He saw this coming. "Not by my choice," he glanced over at you, "Hermione seduced me." Harry let out a reluctant laugh, in a failed attempt to ease the tension.

"If you hurt her – _again_," barked Ron suddenly, making everyone in the room jump. "I will find you, and _I will skin you_."

"One: like I would let you," said Draco quietly. "And two: I believe she," he cocked his head in your direction, "would beat you to it."


	34. Fifteen

You know, it was good to back in London for a while. I had lots of opportunities where I could have come back earlier. I wonder how different everyone would be if I was back earlier. I didn't come back before because there was nothing for me here.

And that's still true I suppose. I'm leaving soon anyway. When we've reached a certain point, and Theo agrees, we're all going back to Italy.

He would be livid if he knew how much information I'm giving you through these. It's like some part of me wants to get caught. Like something inside of me doesn't care anymore. I've steadily deteriorated mentally through writing these. In the beginning, I was excited; I had a whole arsenal of painful experiences to pierce you with. But now, I'm just tired, and I want to stop. It was depressing, just sorting through the memories of a man who had the memories of the happiest you could be, and the worst you could be, you know?

Fifteen-year-old me wouldn't do this. Fifteen-year-old me did something else pretty bad. Fifteen-year-old me never got over the scars.

The big finale is coming, Hermione. Be ready when it does.


	35. Association

The first time Draco had considered what kind of father he would be was when he visited his father, when he was dying.

Narcissa, by then, had been so traumatised by the War that the news of her beloved's impeding death had little impact on her. She had basically folded in on herself. The only one that Lucius had left was Draco.

He never told you, but the moment he stepped into his father's room, he was immediately reminded of me. The memory of me was not accompanied by a particular emotion. Apparently even then, my presence was associated with death.

"Narcissa?"

The name of his mother depressed him even further. The Healer warned him this would happen. Lucius had begun hallucinating, and was often hard to reach. Despite the fact that it was Lucius lying on his deathbed, he was not the most miserable person in the room.

Draco tried to think of a way to let his father down gently, and failed. "No," he said hoarsely. "It's Draco. Your son."  
"Son?" Lucius' eyes fluttered delicately for a second as the confusion settled on his gaunt face. "I don't have a son."

"Not anymore," Draco answered flatly.


	36. Art

To plan revenge is to make art. First you need an idea. A driving force. Boredom. Creative spark. Avengement.

It seems with these boys it is all about their fathers. Draco's drove the pair of you apart, and Theodore's set the pace to the madness.

Then you need a general outline. Lines, sketches, drafts. Me, you, Draco, some less important people: Goyle, Pucey, Theo himself. You look at your outlines and you think: _Is this enough?_ _Do I need more?_ Theo looked his outlines and decided, yes. This is enough.

Then the splashes of colour, the splashes of poison for added effect. He almost murdered Blaise Zabini for false information. Barely into the summer holidays, and he's sent in the wrong direction. Imagine Theo's surprise when he arrives in America expecting to find Draco Malfoy and instead finding himself surrounded by Aurors. Imagine his anger when he got arrested for torturing Blaise Zabini. Sitting in his prison cell, that's when he realised Draco was too hard to get. And so it came to him, a great shimmering pulse of brilliance. Theo poisoned Draco's father in return for Draco landing his own in Azkaban.


	37. Congratulations

It's been a joy, Hermione. Draco is starting to stir now. Honestly, he wouldn't have been knocked out if he simply co-operated. He's just as stubborn as he ever was. It was so funny; you should have seen his face when I started throwing him around. He had no idea; he probably thought Blaise had gone into a psychotic fit or something. It was almost enough to make me want to continue on this crazy mission. I will anyway, regardless of whatever may be circulating me right now. I'm going to finish soon. Soon Draco is going to be functional enough to attempt... _something_. Don't tell Theo, but I deliberately placed Draco's wand within arm's reach. I know he's going to attempt to reach the Aurors behind my back. I think I'm going to let him.

I've reached my low point, I think. Perhaps I'm not as strong as Theo seems to think. He'll be horribly disappointed. But when I thought back to my past, I realised how I was never really that strong. Pressure destroyed me. Destroyed the group. You know, I never fully recovered from the scars that parchment jinx left on me. I congratulate you, Hermione, on that.


	38. Wings

Pity followed her like an annoying puppy dog. It was there in Ginny's voice, there in Harry's eyes, in the face of everyone she saw, and most recently, it was in Kingsley's tone of voice.

As he spoke, she could practically see the sickening pity dripping from his words. Completely and utterly saturated. Or perhaps she was imagining it. Maybe there was no pity, but rather something else, something worse than pity. Something like defeat.

"I know you're right," he said, fixing his stare at Hermione. He was almost beseeching her. "I do. But you have to know that coming to me is useless. The only thing blocking your way to an army of Aurors is the Court."

"I know," said Hermione bitterly. "But they won't listen."

"What I don't understand," said Kingsley slowly, "is why you aren't gone already. What's stopping you?"

"Fear," answered Hermione without hesitation. "I don't have a plan. I don't know what I'm going to do. The only lead I have is what country they're in."

"Do you really think a group of Aurors would have any more idea than you?"

Hermione smiled faintly. "Are you giving me permission to do this, Minister?"

"Think of it as me simply being so busy being Minister that I didn't know anything was going on," answered Kingsley, reshuffling the parchments on his desk. His eyes met Hermione's, as if daring her to contradict him.

"You know it's a suicide mission," said Hermione bluntly. "Even if I make it back alive, it's unlikely anyone else will."

"I know you well enough to know that if you make it back alive, then everyone will."

Hermione couldn't think of anything to say, so she just glared at him. She didn't even know why she was saying what she was saying.

"Draco might not even be alive." It was a mission to get the words out. The name stuck in her throat as if it were made of thorns.

"You'll take that risk?" asked Kingsley sceptically. And just like that, he finally cornered her. They were playing a game Hermione didn't (or wouldn't) understand and she had lost. Hermione refused to say anything, anything at all that could indicate her loss.

Kingsley stared at her with a quizzical expression, his eyes betraying no other inner emotion.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked.

"Doing what?"

When Kingsley didn't reply, the answer was clear. She exhaled loudly and blinked rapidly. And suddenly, appearing just as quickly as the game itself had: the point of the game. Neither of them spoke for an unmeasurable amount of time. The tension in the room thickened noticeably and understanding buzzed between them, strong as an ox. Hermione's mind was racing. She knew what he was going to say, and already her hand was itching towards her wand. If Kingsley were going to say what she thought he was, then she would need back up, and quickly.

The silence was pierced by the sound of paper being rustled. Levitated by a wand, a small slip of parchment floated towards Hermione. As it got nearer, her anticipation spiked.

"Give this to her secretary. Tell them I sent you, they won't object."

Hermione loosened her iron grip on her wand. She took and held the slip of parchment in her fist with gratitude. Her eyes met Kingsley's, and she briefly wondered if she was ever going to see Kingsley ever again. Hermione wanted to express her immense appreciation, but there weren't words with a large enough meaning. He seemed to understand well enough however.

Without another word, Hermione turned and left, holding on the slip of parchment as if her life depended on it. _Just one more thing_, she thought determinedly. _One last thing to do._

* * *

Afterwards, she found herself standing outside the Potter home. She could hear voices from inside. It sounded like Ron was there, and Luna. Steeling herself for what was waiting, she knocked on the door twice.

A barely showing pregnant Ginny answered the door. Her smile was tired. "Come in," she chimed, ever so slightly frenzied, "We need to talk." The door swung shut with a slam, blasting Hermione with a gust of wind. Trembling slightly, Ginny led the way to the living room. The room, previously humming with a quiet buzz of noise, fell silent. Three pairs of eyes swung towards her. Hermione suddenly felt nervous.

Finally, she cleared her throat and said quietly, "I think you all know why I'm here." Hermione slid into the seat next to Luna and felt everyone watching her. Harry dropped his eyes and blushed. Ron gaze was steady and fierce. Ginny folded her arms as she crossed the room to sit next to Harry.

"We're in," said Ron. His blue eyes locked with Hermione's brown.

"What took so long with Kingsley?" asked Luna.

"I tried to convince myself out of it," Hermione said bluntly. She looked down at the slip of parchment still clutched tightly in her fist and frowned. Hermione didn't look away from the piece of parchment until she finished explaining. She watched Ginny's face deepened through varying degrees of wary unhappiness.

Ron said, "Let me get this straight. Kingsley says the Court can go fuck themselves, and then he gave you something for the Italian Minister so you can take a look at their residency records to find your... beloved."

Hermione grimaced at the subtle bitterness in Ron's voice, but she nodded, clamping her teeth down on her bottom lip. Her unspoken plea hung in the air like wet clothing. She looked around at each person cautiously. The fact that all of them might never return weighed in on her mind painfully. Her heart sank even further when she remembered Ginny was responsible for another life. _Absolutely not,_ her mind murmured firmly. Hermione's eyes seemed to be magnetically attracted to the subtle bump underneath Ginny's shirt. _Not again. Not again._ The phrase swirled around her mind, until everything she had repeated the truth back and forth. The more time passed, the more Hermione regretted asking in the first place.

"Ginny will have to stay back of course," Hermione said softly, fearing an outburst. All signs of a Ginny Attack occurred in an instant: widened eyes, sudden clenching of fists, and the dangerous flashing in her face.

"I will do what?" Ginny asked, strained.

"Harry will back me up," Hermione exclaimed. "The risks-"

"I will be fine!" Ginny said loudly. She silenced Harry with a glare. "Just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I'm useless!"

"You won't be useless," Hermione soothed. "Someone has to stay behind to alert more Aurors once we're gone."

"Why?" Ginny demanded.

"We might need back up," Hermione answered. "I don't know if we can do it alone, and I don't think any of us fancies being the ones to take them in."

"Why me?" Ginny cried. Hermione could not get the words out. They stuck in her throat like glue. She could not find the words to express her terror at that moment.

"You're not only responsible for your own life Ginny, but your baby's. If anything happened to it, would you forgive yourself?" Luna said softly, but firmly. Hermione dropped her eyes to the floor, face burning. She could feel everyone's eyes on her again. It felt she was constantly standing in the spotlight. When she looked up, all the anger had melted away from Ginny's face just to be replaced with pity. _More pity._

"I don't want it to happen to you," Hermione said. Finally, Ginny nodded. Hermione let out a sigh of relief.

"It's settled then," Harry said. He stood and stretched. Harry looked down at his wife and gripped her shoulder. Ginny was clearly unhappy about staying back. "Ron, Luna and I will go with you." Hermione cast a glance at Ron, and was glad to see agreement written on his face. She suddenly felt obliged to say something.

"You don't have to come if you don't want to," she said quickly. "It's just... it would be really nice if you did."

"You don't have to ask," Ron said lowly. "You never have to ask."

Hermione smiled, warmth rushing through her like a river. She hated what she had to say next.

"But there's something... else," Hermione said haltingly. Four pairs of eyes swivelled and focused on her, half of them afraid and the other half exasperated. Hermione really did not want to tell them. "Since we're going to Italy... and none of us can really speak Italian fluently..."

"Hermione, you didn't," Luna whispered.

"The most Italian I can speak is a few halting words and phrases," Hermione said sharply. "Not nearly enough."

"Am I... missing something here?" Harry asked confusedly. Ron nodded, both wearing identical masks of confusion.

Hermione would have laughed, except it wasn't funny.

"She asked-" Luna began, glaring at Hermione.

"I asked Blaise Zabini to come with us," Hermione interrupted harshly.

The silence was deafening.

Then, suddenly, she was hit with a tidal wave of noise and questions, from all four of them.

"Oh, God... why?" That was Harry.

"Are you kidding me?" Ron.

"Zabini's not the only Italian speaking person in the world, Hermione!" Luna's voice was high and trembly.

"You dumped me for Blaise Zabini?" Ginny's screech.

"How do you know we can trust him?" Ron challenged.

"Oh, God... _why_?" Harry's head was in his hands.

"_Please_, not Zabini," Luna begged. It was peculiar to see Luna so distressed.

The four of them kept asking and begging and demanding and yelling until, "_QUIET_!" sliced through the air. Breathing heavily, Hermione jumped up and glared at her friends. They all fell silent, looking strangely like little children about to be reprimanded.

"I asked him to come along because _we need him_. He knows Theodore Nott better than any of us, he can speak fluent Italian and he knows where we can hide. I trust him, because he wants to..." -she waited, thinking of the right words to say –"...help as well."

"I don't like this," Ron said instantly, shaking his head. He peered up at Hermione, asking, "Are you sure about him?"

"As sure as I can be."

Luna uttered a low groan, and bit her lip. _Definitely strange_, thought Hermione. _Since when is Luna ever this upset?_ But there was no time for dwelling. Hermione was all too aware of how much time was being wasted.

"Don't be upset, but he's coming here. Any second now," Hermione said. The tension thickened noticeably as two quiet knocks sounded.

"Bloody hell, here we go," breathed Ron. Thinking it was better for everyone, Hermione went to let Zabini in.

Dressed suavely in a dark grey suit, he inclined his head. "Miss Granger."

"Blaise," Hermione quipped. Her voice echoed as she led him into the living room. "Dressed a little formally, don't you think?"

"This? I just threw this on. Rather fits the occasion, don't you think?"

Blaise did not sit down when they entered the living room, which made him look even more peculiar in contrast with the group. Hermione couldn't help but notice how Blaise seemed to be unable to look away from Luna.

Embarrassed and painfully reminded of when a different boy used to look at her like that, Hermione looked away and cleared her throat.

"Now that we're all here," she said, "We need a plan."

* * *

The next morning, the six of them assembled in the backyard of Harry and Ginny's house. Ginny was crying, which was a rare sight. She was saying thickly through sobs, "How am I going to explain to Baby that Daddy might not come home?" Her hand that wasn't clasped in Harry's held her stomach protectively. Then Harry pulled her in and Hermione turned away.

To distract herself, Hermione said to Blaise, "When do you think we can go?"

"Right about now is good," he said. "The faster we leave, the better. Don't forget, Nott has friends everywhere."

Hearing this, Ginny turned away from Harry noisily, looking most unlike her usual self. Seeing Ginny cry like that made Hermione deeply uncomfortable.

"It's time," Ron said, his voice sounding strange. Suddenly, a cold breeze wafted over, causing Hermione to shiver and pull her coat tighter around her.

Everyone except Ginny shuffled closer together, creating a tight circle with Blaise in the middle. Without hesitation, Hermione grabbed his hand that was closest and looked around her. Harry and Ron had both placed a hand on either one of Blaise's shoulders. Luna, most grudgingly, held Blaise's other hand.

Satisfied that everyone was ready to go, Hermione readjusted her beaded bag in her coat pocket that safely contained everything that everyone needed, and turned her eyes to Ginny.

She was no longer crying, but instead had the most desolate air about her. Ginny had earlier voiced her strong belief in everyone's survival, but now she gave the deep impression of something else entirely.

There was no noise except the leaves rustling in the breeze. There was officially nothing stopping them from leaving right then and there, except fear.

Just when the tension was getting completely unbearable, Luna said irritably, "Can we just go?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes and stared at Luna, mystified at her unusual behaviour. Her confusion transferred to the back of her mind however, when she was reminded of a sobering fact. She _still_ hadn't gotten her notes back yet. Exactly how long does it take for a Court to 'examine' something?

"I agree," said Ron. Harry said nothing.

"Then let's do this," said Blaise simply.

"I'll be back soon," whispered Harry, having eyes only for Ginny. She didn't reply, only nodded.

Not wanting to see any more tears, Hermione squeezed Blaise's hand to offer her support.

First there was Ginny's mournful face, already looking as if she had lost everything she ever had, then it was a blur accompanied by the familiar bone-crushing sensation that Hermione somehow associated with being on the receiving end of one of Hagrid's hugs, a sensation Hermione thought she had gotten used to, though she had never Apparated or been taken on Side-Along-Apparition for such a distance.

Just when Hermione's lungs felt on the brink of collapsing, it was over. Hermione, disorientated from the distance, blinked several times to get her vision straight.

Ron asked wearily, "Ugh... where are we?"

Hermione slipped her hand from Blaise's and looked around her. They were in a little deserted tavern. The only other person in the room that Hermione didn't recognise was the elderly bartender who seemed unfazed by their sudden appearance. The only light provided in the room streamed in from the roof windows.

"Lovely," Luna commented dryly.

"Who is he?" Harry asked, nodding towards the man.

"An old friend of my mother's," Blaise answered. "It's fine, he won't say anything." Without any more explanation, he sauntered towards the bar, his hands casually placed in his pockets.

Hermione exhaled loudly and dropped down at a nearby table, twirling her wand absently in her hand. The air was punctuated with the sound of chairs scraping across the wooden floor as the others, excluding Blaise, joined her.

"You're making it snow Hermione," said Ron tiredly, resting his head on his arms. "I hate Apparating now."

"Now?" Harry mumbled, sweeping snow off his shoulder. "I've _always_ hated Apparating."

"That was awful," Hermione agreed, waving the snow away. She looked over her shoulder at Blaise and the old man who seemed to be quietly conversing in Italian. It sounded like Blaise was reassuring the old man.

"When are we going to the Ministry?" Harry asked. He too took his wand out. "Surely, we're wasting more time."

"We're not all going," answered Luna. "It would be way too suspicious. Especially since Nott has people everywhere."

"I'm going with Blaise," Hermione announced firmly, straightening up.

"No you're not," Luna shot back. "Out of all of us, you're the one who shouldn't go the most. The less anyone knows about this, the better."

Hermione winced as the sound of another chair being pulled up sliced through the air.

Blaise said, "Good to go."

* * *

"I wouldn't mind coming here every now and then," Harry sighed, swinging his legs onto the chair.

"The benefits of owning a holiday villa in Italy," Hermione remarked, staring at the room surrounding her. It was remarkably similar to the Malfoy Manor in design, except the heavy Slytherin colours were replaced with light creamy colours and the holiday villa wasn't as spacious as the Manor but it was still larger than the average house. It was exceptionally clean and shiny and new in a way that made Hermione slightly afraid. It didn't seem to be the case with the boys though. They were lounging around making themselves comfortable on expensive-looking furniture that looked like no one had ever sat in it before.

"Don't get too comfortable," Hermione warned, grimacing slightly. "Blaise and Luna won't take very long."

"What's the action plan then?" Ron asked a little sarcastically, not meeting Hermione's eyes, "After?"

Hermione was stumped.

"Then we do what we came here to do," Harry responded absently, focusing on twirling his wand around. He, thankfully, didn't produce any snow.

Ron didn't offer any more protests, and the trio settled into an uneasy silence. Harry was producing mini fireworks, his face deep in thought, no doubt, about Ginny. Ron simply sat in his seat and held his head in his hands, giving off the impression of sleeping, but Hermione knew better.

The tension became unthinkable. Hermione couldn't stand much more, so she slipped out the side door and stepped onto the balcony. She knew she probably shouldn't be standing so vulnerably out in the open, but the breeze felt _so_ good.

_Draco's around here._

The thought sliced through her like a sword, leaving her shuddering and shaking behind. It hadn't occurred to her before, she was so preoccupied with getting herself and her friends to safety, she hadn't felt the full impact of the fact that _she was in Rome, and maybe he was in Rome, maybe they were in Rome together_-

Hermione closed her eyes against the rush of memories that threatened to overpower her. She hadn't been overwhelmed by her own mind in a long time, due to all the stress and the worrying. But it was so easy to feel good there, with the warm Italian sun bathing her and the whispery breeze brushing itself against her body. It was so easy to let her guard down. So she did.

It wasn't clear at what point reality blended with a memory, when the breeze against her skin turned into the whisper of the boy she loved, when the warmth of the sun transformed into a duvet cover, but as it became more and more concrete, Hermione found she did not have to strength to stop.

"_Wouldn't you love to travel the continent?" His words were wings against her skin, leaving goose bumps behind._

"_I've been to France. It's enough for me."  
_

_"Well have you been to any others? Italy? Ireland? Spain?"_

"_I went to Ireland once for a cousin's wedding anniversary," she said dismissively._

"_And the others?" he pressed._

"_What about them?" she asked defensively._

"_Don't you want to see the world?"  
_

_Hermione giggled, surprising herself. She couldn't help it. The scene was so bizarre. Draco Malfoy: wannabe globetrotter._

_She told him just that, and then it was his turn to laugh. "I just think it'll be nice to get out of England. Be nice to go somewhere where no one knows who you are. What you've done."_

_Though it was unintentional, the mood darkened and the tension thickened considerably. _

_Grimacing, Hermione said, "Not the case for me."_

_Draco was silent. "When do you want to go down to breakfast?" he finally asked._

"_Not yet," she said. "Not yet."_

"_Will they be suspicious?"_

"_Why? They'll probably assume I fell asleep in the library or something."_

"_Don't you want to tell them?" asked Draco abruptly._

"_Well, would you tell your friends?" Hermione countered flatly, refusing to meet his eyes, "If you had the chance?"  
_

_"I've had the chance everyday, darling," he answered a little sarcastically. "Does it look like I've said anything?"_

_Hermione paused, thinking of another worrying topic. "I heard some talk about us yesterday."  
_

_"Millicent Bulstrode?" he asked, smirking, "I heard it too. But Millicent Bulstrode's been full of shit since fourth year; I don't think she's a threat."_

_Hermione had earlier protested against leaving their little sanctuary for the chaotic Great Hall but there was no hint of protest when she suddenly leapt up from the bed and started getting dressed, with a very panicky air about her._

"_What is it?" Draco asked, no longer smirking._

"_We've got half an hour until first period," she almost shrieked, whilst trying unsuccessfully to pull her sweater on._

"_How do you know?"  
_

_"Your watch on the table," she replied, now hastily pulling up her tights. There was little dialogue exchanged due to their panic. Hermione's brain was whirring. Harry and Ron would be wondering right about now._

"_I'll go out first," Hermione said, emitting a little gasp as her wand tugged painfully at her excruciatingly messy hair. Draco made a sound of agreement somewhere behind her._

_Once her hair was looking mildly presentable, her attention was turned to her uniform, which was horribly crinkled. When her wand was finished acting as an iron, Hermione stared into the mirror and saw more or less, the girl she had been before she went seeking for an escape in Draco Malfoy's arms._

_Breaking Hermione from her thoughts, Draco stumbled out of the bathroom, looking sexily dishevelled. His toothbrush was still hanging out the corner of his mouth as he nodded his approval of Hermione's appearance._

_She was strangely nervous sitting on the bed that was still warm. It definitely wasn't from the sneaking out she was about to do. It definitely wasn't her first time jumping from being in love with Draco Malfoy to the normalcy of her general life._

_When Draco finally came out of the bathroom looking presentable, he had a smile ready for her. Together, they preformed their usual ritual: make the bed, retrieve their possessions and make it look as if no one had been there._

_Upon nearing the door, Hermione cast one more look behind her at the room, and then back to Draco. They had little time left before they had to go back to hating each other. She hesitated slightly before opening the door. Her palm was resting on the doorknob; she just couldn't muster the strength to open it._

"_I would go with you," she said abruptly, staring at Draco._

"_What?"  
_

_"I would go to Italy with you, Draco," she said simply, before she turned the doorknob and stepped out in the seventh floor corridor._

The memory melted away at the same pace it had arrived. One moment Hermione was eighteen again and in a whirlwind affair, and then she was twenty-five again, standing on the balcony of Blaise Zabini's holiday villa, and Draco was nowhere to be seen. And someone seemed to be calling out to her from behind.

"Are you deaf?" asked someone angrily. "OI, HERMIONE. WAKE. UP. THEY ARE BACK."

Hermione turned around. They were indeed back. _Forgive me,_ she thought, as she left the balcony and her memories.

"Sorry," she said airily, as she stepped into the room. "Daydreaming."

"We got it," Luna said excitedly. She was beaming, and it was the first time Hermione had seen her wear anything but a frown on her face since Blaise joined the party. "We got it, we got it, we got it!"

"It wasn't easy though," Blaise added, wincing.

"I suppose its good that the Italian Ministry is so protective of its witches and wizards," Luna said thoughtfully. "They wouldn't even let us _talk_ to the Minister's _secretary_ until we shoved that note from Kingsley in their faces."

"What are you waiting for then?" Harry demanded. "Give us a look!"

Hermione watched Luna walk over to Harry and Ron, passing over the small slip of parchment that had an address on it, and she found that half of her did not want to know what was written. Ron looked up at her expectedly, his face shining with knowledge that half of Hermione did not ever want to know. Soon, Harry looked up with almost the same look on his face and Hermione knew her time was up.

Her hand shook as she held it out, waiting for Luna to reach her. Butterflies fluttered restlessly in her stomach as the empty space on her outstretched palm was filled.

_Edgecomb Family Villa, Sorrento_

A familiar light bulb flickered brightly in her head. "I know where that is," Hermione whispered breathlessly. "I know where that is."

* * *

**Sorry it took so long to get out, but better late than never right? Anyway, I thinking two more chapters? c: x**


	39. Damage

**Hold on to your butts girls and guys. This chapter goes a lot of places.**

* * *

A lot of the more frenzied times of Hermione's life since Draco was kidnapped all passed and were remembered in the same way. A blur. Colourful blurs with flashes and sparks but a blur nonetheless. The afternoon that Luna and Blaise returned after visiting the Italian Ministry was no exception. All Hermione could remember included shouting, arguing, pacing and at one point, being restrained. Eventually the group settled on waiting at least one day until they attempted at anything massive, to avoid being suspicious. As Blaise reminded everyone constantly, Theodore Nott had friends everywhere.

Hermione thought Blaise was handling it all rather well. The kidnapping of his best friends and the resurgence of his torturer seemed to have little impact on his mentality. Privately, she thought he was handling Luna well too. She told the others this when Blaise was out buying food. She didn't mention her suspicions about Blaise and Luna.

Hermione thought about all this and more as she was lying in bed that night, unable to slip into sleep. She didn't let herself think about Draco. She didn't let herself think about the conditions he might be in. She didn't let herself think about Marietta. She didn't let herself think about how it got this far.

She didn't even notice that she had fallen asleep until she was woken by faint rustling sounds. After years of being an Auror and Harry Potter's friend, her instincts never rested. Her hand was already on her wand, before she realised it was just Luna.

"Luna," Hermione whispered, careful not to wake any of the others. "What are you doing?"

"I can't sleep," she said dubiously. "I thought some fresh air might be nice, and since my room doesn't have a balcony..."

"Yeah, of course," Hermione said quickly. "I don't mind."

"Sorry for waking you." Luna pulled the balcony doors open.

Hermione swung her legs off the bed and pulled her robe on. She joined Luna at the balcony, who was staring out into the distance. Hermione looked at her, eyebrows creased. She remembered another pressing matter.

"What happened between you and Blaise?" Hermione asked carefully, trying hard to conceal her curiosity. It took Luna a while to answer, and when she did Hermione regretted asking her.

"I don't know," she answered heavily. Luna crossed her arms across her chest, as if she were cold. "I don't know."

"Has this got anything to do with Blaise's engagement?" Hermione faced the balcony again, scanning the city in front of her. She tried to act like she was focusing on the lights of the city, but really she just wanted an excuse not to have to watch Luna reply.

"Obviously, because he's not engaged to me."

Hermione blanched slightly. She turned back to Luna, frowning hard, her eyebrows contracted. Hermione couldn't find the words to speak, so she let the silence do the talking.

It carried on like that, a wordless conversation, with Luna never looking at Hermione, her eyes always watching the city twinkle in front of her, and Hermione watching Luna, a girl who never seemed to bother with a stupid thing called love, but rather focused her energies on more important things, like friendship and bravery. But, Hermione supposed, everyone breaks eventually.

Hermione asked quietly, "How did it happen?"

"It was before he was engaged," she said tightly, her voice losing its dreamy quality every second.

"It was before he met _her_, then?" Hermione asked worriedly.

Luna didn't answer, and the silence that emanated from her didn't answer anything either. It was obvious that she wasn't going to say anything else, so Hermione spun round back to her room and left the balcony and Luna without another word.

Hermione was back in bed and on the verge of slumber when Luna entered the room. She shut the balcony doors behind her and said nothing until she reached the door.

"If it matters," she said flatly, "_I_ left him."

Hermione told her, "It doesn't."

Then Luna left the room and Hermione was alone.

The next morning, Hermione lay wide awake on her bed and unable to move. Her night had been pierced with strange dreams and colours, but at least she hadn't shouted out (she didn't think so, anyway). Hermione vaguely remembered snow and leaves and a rose.

She was stiff with anxiety. Today was the day. Today was the day.

"Today is the day," she muttered, finally gathering the courage to get out of bed. "Today is the day," she repeated as she padded into the bathroom. She chanted it as she went about her morning routine. Strangely, it felt like a boost of energy every time it left her mouth. When she entered the dining room she was still saying it. She attracted looks from Ron and Blaise when she sat down at the table. She quickly shut up and blushed. Harry sauntered in levitating three large plates piled with food.

"Got enough food, much?" Blaise said, looking amused and shocked.

"Ron has the ability to morph into a human vacuum sometimes," Harry explained, smirking a little as he placed the plates on the table. He straightened up and examined his work. Hermione was glad to see that he seemed a bit more cheerful than he was yesterday. But Hermione knew Harry well enough to see through his mask.

The same couldn't have been said about Luna, whose absence was blaringly obvious as the others settled into their breakfast. Hermione sat there uncomfortably, having no desire to eat just yet. She started fidgeting.

Ron, having noticed Hermione's uneasiness, said thickly, "What's the matter? Is it Harry's cooking?" Ron turned to Harry, swallowing his food, "I told you the public wasn't ready for the _Lucky Dip of Potter_."

"No, it's Luna," she said, "Your cooking is fine." Harry's face returned to normal.

"What about her?" Ron asked.

"She's not up yet."

"You speak too soon," Blaise muttered. Hermione twisted in her seat and saw Luna walking in, her hair wild and her eyes a wicked red. Hermione looked away from her gaze, embarrassed, and realised that no one would ever hear of what happened last night on the balcony.

The silence stretched to the point of being shameful. To avoid anyone stating anything about Luna's dishevelled appearance, Hermione said hastily, "Welcome to the _Lucky Dip of Potter_. There's a wide selection of food, including-"

Hermione was interrupted when Luna abruptly pulled up a chair and plopped straight down. She reached for pancakes and began to eat. She waved her hand dismissively, as if to tell them to continue on their previous conversation.

"Um... okay," Harry said. "After breakfast we should get moving."

Blaise glanced almost involuntarily at Hermione, and then Luna. It felt like he knew exactly what was said on the balcony.

Hermione flushed and turned her attention to her plate of food, which she hadn't touched.

They all ate with certain gusto, as if they all collectively felt a strange sense of finality. Within a few minutes all the plates were relatively clean and Ron whisked them away and into the sink with a flick of his wand. They were all sitting there a little awkwardly, waiting for someone to make the first move.

In the end, it was Luna. "Let's all freshen up. Meet back here in ten?"

The party broke up and they all left to their respective rooms. Hermione examined herself in the mirror and she wondered if she would be the same by the time the day was out.

She chose a simple, close fitting outfit for the day and its activities. As much as she didn't want to, she avoided the loose and insanely comfortable clothes, that she knew thanks to her rigorous Auror training from a few years back, that they could be a disadvantage. After a few minutes of debating with herself internally, she also magicked her hair into a tight bun. In the end, she looked like a prim businesswoman. A couple seconds of frowning at her reflection resulted in letting a few strands of hair loose, to put some Hermione back into her appearance.

She caught a glimpse of dirty blonde hair trailing past her door. She left her reflection and followed Luna. Soon, everyone was there. Everyone's emotions was palpable.

Then Harry sat down and with parchment and a quill in his hand. He laid them out and pressed his hands together.

"I really want to... get it done today," he said softly. At his words, the rest of them sat done as one. "I think... it would be better for everyone if we do it as soon as we can."

"I know we agreed to do it today, but is it safe yet?" asked Luna. Hermione turned to Blaise.

"I'm fairly certain they're off our scent, if they were even on it in the first place. Remember that Nott, whatever he seemed to you in school, his skills have skyrocketed. I don't know much about why, but I highly suspect it has something to do with avenging his father. If the rumour that serious emotional drainage and harm can affect magical ability negatively is true, then the opposite can also be true. As for the girl – judging by the magic she has afflicted so far, she didn't really need to attend your D.A. meetings, did she? I don't believe that she's as _far gone_ as Theo is. Theo is really fucking insane."

"Have you read the notes, Blaise?" asked Hermione softly, looking away.

"Fortunately, no."

"Then you can't say she's not like Theo in terms of sanity."

Hermione met Blaise's confused stare and silently dared him to contradict her.

"We've got a plan and we've got a Slytherin. Can we go?" Ron asked firmly.

Blaise looked away and nodded. He had arranged for all of them to Apparate into a safe house, then proceed on foot towards their final destination. Hermione fiddled with her little beaded bag nervously. Her other hand gripped her wand. The group arranged themselves in the regular way, and then they left the villa.

The house Hermione found herself in was substantially smaller and definitely less grand than the last. It was similar to her and Luna's own place. The group's heavy breathing was broken instantly when a high-pitched voice sliced through the air, "_Mamma, Mamma_, _Blaise è qui Mamma,_ Blaise is here!"

"My cousin," Blaise murmured in a sotto voice. "And my aunt." He broke the group's circle and walked towards a nearby door, where the cry of Blaise's cousin grew louder and louder. There was a sudden explosion of sound and it looked like a small ball of dark-haired energy rocketed itself into Blaise's arms.

"_Caterina, Caterina,_" Blaise said, smiling. "_Dov'è tua madre, Caterina_?"

"Here I am," trilled a loud voice. Blaise's aunt entered the room, radiating warmth like the sun. Hermione didn't manage a good look at her until she moved away from her nephew.

She was a short woman with wavy black hair down to about the middle of her back. Aside from the height and hair colour difference, she looked strikingly similar to Blaise's mother. Her daughter, Caterina, looked about eight or nine. The trio were all chatting rapid Italian.

Ron, Harry, Luna and Hermione stayed put. Hermione felt like they shouldn't interrupt the family reunion, especially one that felt as if they hadn't seen each other in years.

It was Blaise's aunt who made the connection between the two groups. She introduced herself as Lia. Hermione was relieved when the woman had no questions about their business in Italy. Blaise must have explained to her beforehand. Caterina hid behind her mother, her previous exuberant self having died away when she noticed the presence of four total strangers.

They were there for an hour, mostly because no one wanted to interrupt the family reunion in fear of being rude. Instead, the four of them talked quietly amongst themselves about little things. It was almost normal, like they were in one of their own houses and they were talking about work or life, but instead they were talking about the obvious and they were sitting in a stranger's house in Italy.

"I'm thinking Ginny can probably alert the Aurors some time around now," Ron said. "It'll take them a bit longer to locate where Nott is than it did us, I think."

"I still don't know why we need them," Harry said. "We're a group of five highly skilled witches and wizards – not bragging or anything – and who have they got? One wizard and one witch."

"A wizard who successfully escaped from Azkaban and has kept out of the Ministry's clutches for several years," Luna murmured.

"A witch who managed to keep her identity a secret for years and orchestrated Hermione's miscarriage, and not to mention she kind of kidnapped Draco Malfoy and has kept him hidden away for two weeks, even though the whole wizarding world is looking for him," Ron muttered.

"Not to mention we don't know it's just them," Luna said. "As Blaise always says, _Nott has friends everywhere_." She said the last part in an attempt at Blaise's voice.

"Good job on totally killing Harry's spirits, guys," Hermione said bitterly.

"No, it's fine. They're right," Harry said, "But think of what we've got. Five people who survived the War. Four people who were actively involved in the War. Four people who were key elements in Voldemort's downfall. And we have the element of surprise on our side."

"But they've got Draco," Hermione said heavily. She was staring at the ground, afraid to look at her friends.

After a lengthy pause Harry said, "Yeah. They've got Draco."

Ron leapt up. There was a strange fire in his eyes. "If I know Draco Fucking Malfoy at all – which I think I do – then he would've done _something_. I know he's probably on the brink of death – sorry, Hermione – but he's _Draco Fucking Malfoy_. He's a coward, a total dick, and he's completely messed up – but he's not stupid. He knows you would be coming for him, Hermione. He would have done something." Ron sat down again, glaring at Hermione. It felt like he was reprimanding her for being miserable.

"He's a good person, I think," said Luna quietly.

"Deep down."

"Very deep down," Harry added.

"He changed," Ron said.

"His upbringing sucked," Hermione said.

"_So _much."

"His reputation was tarnished after the War-"

"Quite rightfully you have to admit," Hermione commented.

"- His father died from being poisoned, and his mother was temporarily insane."

"Well done Harry," Ron said ruefully. "You've just summed up the Malfoy family history from ninety seven to present day."

There were two significant events that Harry didn't mention, and Hermione was forever grateful that he didn't. They were still there though, hanging in the atmosphere like wet clothing. To prevent anyone else from bringing up what would eventually be said anyway, Hermione would be the one to do it.

"You forgot the part about me."

"Ah," Ron mumbled.

"The fact that he broke up with me at the same time I broke up with him. I did it for reasons that probably don't need to be vocalised. He did it to protect me from being killed by Theodore Nott. Then he fled the country, hoping to lead Nott out too. He met Marietta Edgecombe in Italy and that's how this whole mess began."

"Right," Harry said uncomfortably.

"Then when he came back to visit his parents, he also happened to visit me – la-de-da-de-da, and boom: I'm pregnant and we're happy and then I get seemingly randomly attacked by Gregory Goyle who later died because Theodore Nott was paranoid that what happened to Adrian Pucey would happen to Goyle, in other words, he would fight back the Imperius Curse and turn on his captors."

"It's good," Luna urged. "It's good to get it all out."

"Adrian Pucey died trying to save me and the baby but his timing completely _sucked_. Baby died anyway and my relationship with Draco was diminished to burning fragments of what it once was. We named our dead son in honour of the one who had tried to save him. We buried our son, Adrian, the day after Adrian Pucey's funeral. Then we lasted about six months before The Fight and I came a-knock knock knocking on your door," a nod towards Harry.

Ron was nodding with a little smile. _Keep going_, he was saying.

"Draco had made a last ditch attempt at salvaging our broken relationship by proposing to me and I almost accepted. That was, of course, before The Fight. A few years go past and we've both doing well, everything is the kind of good that is never really _good_, until I get woken up early in the morning by Kingsley's Patronus asking me to Apparate to the Ministry immediately."

Hermione sat back and crossed her legs.

"I am _so_ glad Blaise didn't hear that," said Luna finally, after a couple moments of comfortable silence.

"_I did!_" came from somewhere nearby.

"THANKS FOR THE UPDATE, ZABINI," Luna hollered. She smiled faintly when there was no answer.

Harry started laughing. It was insane, there was no reason for it, but it wasn't long until Hermione tagged along, which made Ron giggle which finally snagged Luna.

They were a bundle of noise and childish-like giggles with desperate gasps of breath. Hermione hadn't laughed in _so_ long. She hadn't heard the others laugh in a long time as well. Harry was at the point that he sounded like a drunken hyena. Spontaneous laughter that the last of which she could remember was at least two years old.

Ron hiccupped back to business. "Okay so-" _giggle_ "Luna knocks on the door pretending to be someone who just got attacked, I intervene and pretend to be a Healer, and Blaise, Hermione and Harry try look for another entrance round the house. Sounds-" _hic_ "-Good?"

"Perfect," Hermione giggled.

The giggles flew out the open window quickly and the mood dipped. A bird started singing outside. Hermione, lightened by her recent giggle fest, tried to look on the brighter side. _End of this day, Granger, and it'll be over. Maybe you'll have him, maybe you won't. You might be dead, you might not be. But Granger, it'll be over._

* * *

_Click._

"Guess who came to visit me, Draco?"

_Click._

"A beautiful little birdie."

_Click._

"Don't you want to know what the beautiful little birdie had to tell me?"

_Click._

"Don't be like that, Draco baby. The beautiful little birdie had good news."

_Click._

"Stop pouting, baby. Don't you want hear the good news?"

_Click._

"What do you mean? It's not _always_ that there's bad news too."

_Click. Click._

"Why are you so mean today, Draco? I just want to deliver you with some good news."

_Click._

"Okay, okay. I'm not coming any closer. Do you want to hear it?"

_Slam._

"_I can't hear you say it, baby!_"

"...Yes."

"I wonder who's coming for you, baby?"

"Fuck you."

"Language, silly Draco! You'll never know if you're going to be so _foul_!"

_Crack_.

"Now, say you're sorry, please."

_Crack._

"Don't disagree with me, please. Apologise for your language."

_Crack._

"Was that so hard? Obviously, you already know who's sitting in Blaise Zabini's aunt's house, and is currently about to set off on their _adventure_!"

_Click._

"I'm sorry, I'll fix up your rib. Just don't tell Theo, okay? I agree, oh, I know baby, he was a little rough yesterday. It's okay; did you know I was once training to be a Healer? So I do know some stuff!"

_Whoosh._

"There, is that better?"  
_Click._

"Just stay here, and rest okay? It won't heal if you move around. So stay here, okay? Or I might not be able to fix you the next time."

_Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click._

"I'll come see you later, Draco. Don't worry about the _cargo_. She'll be gone soon enough."

_Swish. Click._

"...Oh, God. Hermione."

* * *

"Gang! Let's roll out of here!"

Luna was the first to rise. "You're so funny, Blaise."

"I get it from my mamma," Blaise said.

"Cut the cheesecake, guys," Ron said, waltzing in the middle of them. "We've got a jerk to save."

"So kind," Hermione sighed. She turned to Luna and twirled her wand around her face. Luna's dirty blonde hair was suddenly the same shade as Ron's. Her eye colour was turned into a brilliant shade of emerald. Hermione fiddled with Luna's face a bit more until she was no longer recognisable.

A minute later Ron had black hair that was down to his jaw, thanks to Harry. His eyes were no longer blue, but hazel and his nose was wider than usual. Harry gave him a few wrinkles around his eyes. Hermione could just recognise him if she concentrated but the ones waiting in the house wouldn't, and that was the whole idea. It would have been better if they used Polyjuice Potion, but they couldn't because of time restraints. They couldn't wait two months. They just couldn't.

Harry stepped back from his work and smiled. "Hello, Healer Simcox." Ron had magicked himself into a new outfit, one that suited a Healer. Hermione brushed some lint off his shoulder.

Finally, Luna coloured Hermione's hair a bleach blonde and her skin a deep caramel. Hermione surveyed the disguises and felt satisfied.

"Thank you so much," she said to Blaise's aunt, who was standing by shyly with her daughter clutching at her legs. "I, and my friends, are forever in your debt. If you ever need anything, _ever_, need anything in England, please, look for me."

She handed Lia a slip that bore her name and the department she belonged to. The others made their goodbyes and Luna hugged the little girl, Caterina. Blaise's goodbye was in the form of a simple wave.

Leaving the warmth and safety of Lia's home was damn difficult. Near impossible, even. A little voice tugged at the corner of her mind and whispered, _you're so vulnerable out here, little birdie._ Hermione shook the uneasy thoughts away, and slipt her wand out of her pocket. She held it in a casual stance, trying to look like any other witch walking the streets.

The others did the same. Silently, they began to walk.

In groups first, so not to look suspicious. Hermione and Blaise went first, because they were the only ones who knew where they were going. Then Ron and Luna, with Harry bringing up the back.

Twenty minutes into their walk, Hermione was wondering why they had all opted for the choice of proceeding on foot. The Italian sun was beating down on them relentlessly, with absolutely no wind whatsoever. Hermione tore off her sweater that had seemed like such a good idea in the morning. The morning that felt a little chilly. She hadn't noticed the temperature rise at Lia's house, mainly because her attention was so completely on other matters.

"Oh, heavens above," Hermione muttered. She wiped his brow again.

"Are we there yet?" Luna called. Ron hurriedly _shush_ed her.

"No." Hermione's tone was flat. She Summoned a water bottle from her beaded bag. She praised past-Hermione highly for packing it, before letting the cold re-hydrate her parched mouth. When she was done, she Summoned the other bottles, one for each person, and hastily magicked them to their owners.

All the witches and wizards who went past were dressed in their summer best. Hermione cursed the sun, and cast a desparing glance at her heavy jeans.

"We're almost there," said Blaise encouragingly. "Another ten minutes, if we're quick enough. Hermione?"

Hermione offered a grunt, too hot to answer.

No one else said anything, a silence Hermione was becoming accustomed to. But Blaise's remark seemed to have some sort of an effect. They all straightened up and quickened their pace.

Anyone going past would have hopefully judged them all as some pedestrians, all going to their separate locations. They certainly milked it for all they had. When they weren't moaning about the temperature, each group had their own different covers.

Hermione and Blaise acted like a bickering couple, stopping every now and then to pretend to shout at each other. Hermione was a little worried at how easy it was to slip into the role.

Ron and Luna were acting as a man and his personal trainer. Occasionally, Luna would holler to, "_Keep it going, Bamford!_" which Ron would reply, "_Get off my back, Gina!"_

They had decided against using 'Weasley' out loud, in fear of recognition. Lastly, Harry was underneath the Cloak, because he was so famous it would not be possible not to get recognised.

Hermione prided herself on the disguises. She thought it was rather good. As well as being worried at how easy it was to become half of a bickering couple, she worried about how into it she was. Sub-consciously, she was reminded of the final days in her relationship with Draco Malfoy.

* * *

_Shuffle._

"Did she leave it here again?"

_Shuffle._

"Oh, God, please..."

_Bang.  
_

"Shit! Wait, he didn't hear, it's okay."

_Shuffle._

"You angel. You actually left a wand here. Not mine, granted, but a wand nonetheless."

_Ouch._

"Fuck. What'd he do to my ribs?"

_Ouch._

"Holy _fuck_. What the hell did he do?"

_Shuffle._

"Fucking Nott. Draco Malfoy, afraid of little Theodore Nott. Disgusting."

_Shuffle._

"I need to get out before she gets here."

_Shuffle._

"She'll die here."

_Shuffle._

"She can't die."

_Whoosh._

"Lucky Auntie _Bellatrix_ taught me how to mend mild injuries. Okay, it's not really mild."

_Shuffle._

"It's a bit better."

_Shuffle._

"Fucking Nott. I'll have his head."

_Shuffle. Click._

"As for Melanie... no, Marietta, well..."

_Shuffle._

"We'll see."

* * *

It was _impressive_. It was very tall. It was dark. It was completely ominous. It felt oppressing. It was all those things, and more, even from sixty metres back, around a corner. Hermione instinctively took a step back.

"Ron and Luna, it's all you," Blaise murmured. He caught her hand as she tried to get by. His grasp lingered for a moment too long, before he let her hand fall. The gesture was so intimate that witnessing it felt like she was intruding on a private moment. Eventually though, Luna turned away to face Ron.

"Sorry," Ron said, wincing. He pointed his wand at Luna's face. There was a quick flash of red and Luna stumbled away from Ron, clutching at her face, trying to suppress any sounds.

"I'm _really_ sorry," Ron groaned fervently, awkwardly patting her on the back.

Luna uttered a moan and waved her hand dismissively. When she took her hands away from her face, Hermione saw the two large welts, one on her left cheek and one above her right eye, just underneath her hairline.

"Does it look real?" Luna choked. "Please tell me it looks authentic because it feels authentic as hell."

"It looks perfect." Hermione glanced around them anxiously.

She looked past his shoulder and at the formidable house that haunted her ever since she stumbled across the address and its inhabitants while reading the _Prophet_ years ago. After asking Draco about it casually – a question he evaded though at the time, Hermione felt no reason to be suspicious – Hermione hadn't given it a second thought, until Luna and Blaise returned from the Italian Ministry with an address in hand.

The whole morning, Hermione felt strangely calm towards the whole infiltration of the Edgecombe villa, but that was not the case as she stared at the house behind Ron. Her heart started hammering.

Out of the corner of her eye, Harry sauntered forwards slowly, extracting the Cloak from her beaded bag. Blaise twirled his wand. Tears welled up in Luna's eyes, preparing to be released upon knocking on the Edgecombe villa.

It was now or never.

Hermione turned her eyes to Ron again and attempted another smile. "Go," she said gently, giving him and Luna a little push. "Go, now."

Ron hesitated, but he went anyway. Luna strode ahead, clutching at her face dramatically.

Without another word, Harry threw the Cloak of the three of them. They crouched low and walked slowly in fear of being discovered.

Hermione watched Luna start to run towards to villa. She knocked on the door, and brought a hand to her face, her body shaking. Hermione made a mental note to praise her acting skills later. Luna looked around wildly, as if she were afraid, and knocked on the door louder and more frantically. Ron hid behind a bush and waited.

Hermione, Harry and Blaise crept steadily towards the house. Luna knocked again, now pleading in heavily accented English.

They reached the gate beside the house, which lead presumably, to the back garden. Harry unlocked it quickly.

Hermione let out a breath she didn't know she was holding when someone finally opened the door.

* * *

"Shit."

_Creak._

"Shitshitshitshitshit."

_Shuffle._

"Hurry the fuck up, Draco, get back into that bed..."

_Creak._

"_Draco? Are you awake?"_

_Shuffle. Click._

"It's fucking Nott, damn."

_Shuffle. Knock knock knock._

"So... close..."

_Creak_.

"_Wake up, Draco! The guests are here!"_

_Shuffle. Knock knock knock._

_Please help me please open the door!_

"It sounds like Luna..."

"Draco! You're awake!"

"Fuck off, Nott."

"That's not very nice. Mari was right, you're very mean today."

"If you hurt them, I'll kill you."

"Isn't that what you said to Mari when she kidnapped you?"

"Fuck you, fuck _Mari_, fuck this, fuck _everything_-"

_Bang._

"Don't _fucking _swear, Draco!"

"AARGH!"

"Mari won't come and fix you this time."

"My arm!"

"Quit your whining. You asked for it. Look, I only came up here because your friends are here. Stupid fools tripped the Stealth Sensoring Spell."

_Creak. Shuffle. Click._

"They're _all_ going to die here."

* * *

"Excuse me, excuse me, sorry, _sorry_, I'm a Healer."

"Are you now?"

"Yes, I saw it happen, I'm _very_ sorry I didn't get here earlier, but you took off!"

"Come in, come in."

Hermione watched Ron and Luna enter the house with baited breath. Marietta's behaviour was suspicious, but they were in the house now, and Ron and Luna could handle themselves fine.

She signalled to Harry that the coast was clear. They all had to stoop to properly fit underneath the Cloak, so their movements were slow and awkward.

The Edgecombe villa was quite isolated. It stood on it's own cliff, the ocean peaceful and calming behind it. The area was massive. The Edgecombes obviously lived in luxury in Italy. The area behind the house was littered with various plants and trees, painting a very tranquil environment. The area finished with a cliff, which was cut off by a fence. The fence was very skilfully hidden by a row of assorted bushes and hedges.

The only ominous thing on the property was the maze. It was nowhere near as large as the one that was used in the Triwizard Tournament. It was quite small, really, but there was still a strange feeling about it. It was situated in a far away corner. Hermione knew it was going to cause trouble.

She could vaguely see other houses in the distance. They were all off on their own.

Hermione suddenly realised how transparent their cover was. This villa was standing by itself, isolated and hidden away from the general public. What were the chances that an innocent pedestrian would stumble upon the villa that was so expertly hidden away after getting viciously attacked? If they were trying to break into any other house in the world with any other agenda, then it may have been plausible. But the beings inside the house were, no doubt, highly suspicious and cunning.

The thought brought running up and down Hermione's spine, along with an idea. _Nott had friends everywhere_. Everywhere meant _London_. Oh Gods, how long had it been since Harry had talked to Ginny?

"Harry," she choked. She reached out her hand and grabbed the back of Harry's top. He whirled around, confused.

"Hermione, what are you doing?" Blaise hissed.

"Harry," she said again. Tears were beginning to form.

"What?" He looked frenzied at her tears.

"Ginny," she managed. "Ginny... When was the last time you talked to Ginny?"

"Um," he said. "Last time I got a letter from her was around dinner last night."

Hermione released a groan. She clapped a hand to her mouth and looked around wildly. Forget being quiet and cautious, she thought frantically.

She tore out from under the Cloak, against the hushed protests of the others. Hermione made her way to the nearest window and did not give a damn about noises. The sound of the glass being smashed by her wand cracked through the air like a bullet. A part of her hesitated. _Granger, you don't have a shred of evidence supporting your theory. When did you stop being the brightest witch of your age and start being the dullest?_

_Damn, Granger, this will be your death._

_They definitely heard that, Granger._

_When you left the villa, Granger, you left your life behind. No, scratch that, when you left England, you left your life behind._

_She's not even there, Granger._

"Shut up, shut up, _shut up_," she muttered through her teeth. She climbed through the window without a backwards glance. Her hand gripped her wand as if it were her life. A drop of sweat rolled down her face.

The room she entered was too quiet. There were sheets over all the furniture, as if the owner just arrived and hadn't enough time to unpack fully.

_Far too quiet._

Hermione's nerves were tightly coiled. She was very tense. Her ears were straining to pick up any sort of sound. The house didn't even creak. She peered out the open door with her heart rate quickening. The hallway was illuminated, with many, many doors leading off from it. It looked massive from the outside, but it was even bigger inside.

"Damn it," she whispered.

Then the scream sounded.

* * *

"What was that?" Blaise whipped around to face the window Hermione had smashed.

"I'm asking _you_ why we haven't gone after Hermione," Harry said brusquely.

"And _I'm_ asking what the hell that sound was," Blaise snarled.

"Fuck it," Harry growled. He tore the Cloak off and dived in after Hermione. He heard Blaise splutter behind him, before he followed.

The room was deserted. There was no sign of Hermione.

"It looks like someone just moved in," Blaise said.

"It feels... weird here. Like it's artificial. Like everything is just a part of the show."

"Then let's go," Blaise said quietly. "Hermione first, or Ron and Luna?"

"No doubt people heard the window smash."

They both looked at each other at the same time. Harry saw the same thought that was glimmering in his mind on Blaise's face. Experience told Harry it was a bad idea, but he felt a sense of urgency that he didn't understand, and that obliterated all sense.

"Go after Ron and Luna. I'll find Hermione," said Harry.

Blaise nodded once, and he was gone. Harry watched his retreating form hastily peer into the rooms he passed down the hallway, before glancing into the last door on his right. Blaise looked back once before disappearing.

Harry took a deep breath, and set off. He didn't bother looking in the other rooms; he knew that there was going to be nothing there. He entered the same door Blaise did seconds before, and found himself facing more doors. On his left was a staircase going God-knows-where. There was a door directly in front of him and a closed door next to it. Presumably Blaise went through the open door. Harry could hear far-away laughter from the direction of the open door. It was the first sign of human life he had encountered since he dove into the house, excluding the scream, and he wasn't even sure if it was real. It did nothing for his nerves.

The house shifted slightly, and Harry jumped. He swore underneath his breath and shook his head. He chastised himself for being afraid of nothing and stared at the stairs. As far as he could see, they led to a little platform that had a table in the corner with a vase on it. The flowers in the vase were dead.

The stairs continued, and Harry couldn't see anything else from where he was standing. He swallowed thickly and shook his head again. He looked at the open door again, with laughter, a little stronger this time, flowing from it. Apart from the scream and Hermione's disappearance, there were no signs of any malevolence so far. Harry hadn't heard any potentially malevolent spell work go on. The thing stopping him was the ambience. Everything felt wrong and fake. And then there was the constant irritating whisper in his mind, buzzing around like a fly that wouldn't leave: _it's all a trap._

So he started up the stairs with a tense body quietly, carefully, speedily.

* * *

"Excuse me, do you have any bandages?"

The small girl smiled, a little strangely. "Yeah, of course," she stood up. "Don't move a muscle, I'll get it." The first part was laced with poison.

Ron's smile faltered slightly. The small girl was already gone, her shoes _click_ing every step of the way.

Ron couldn't speak aloud, in fear of being overheard. He was intimidated at the sheer size of the room and how formidable it was, even inside. The outside of the house was black and silver. The inside could not be more different. It was like one person had decorated the outside and a completely different person decorated the interior. Ron wondered if the girl that just left the room had decorated the inside. It was, after all, her house, since her parents died three years ago.

"I wonder, Healer Simcox, if you saw a bickering couple on the way here?" asked Luna suddenly. Ron was confused. What was she talking about?

The confusion lasted for a few moments before it was lifted away. The only thing to be heard was the clock on the wall ticking away. Ron's eyes were locked with Luna's.

"I did see them," he said finally. "They were arguing like the world was going to end. Why?"

"No reason," said Luna, her face blank. "I was just wondering where they are now, if they're still arguing. I hope they've resolved their issues."

Ron sank back into the sofa and understanding crossed his face like a shadow.

"I'm sure they're where they were meaning to go. You're a sweet girl," he said, mainly for anyone suspicious ears that might be homing in on the conversation, "to worry about two strangers like that. Hopefully we'll be able to fix up those burns without a trouble."

Luna beamed from ear to ear and watched the door the other girl had left through expectantly.

Ron imitated her. His ears strained for any audible signs of his friends. It unnerved him how quiet the whole house was. He thought there would have been more life in the house. But what was he expecting? It was the house of two mad people who like to kidnap people for weird reasons.

Ron jumped in his seat when a loud _crack _came from somewhere not so near. He looked around quickly, his heart pounding. Luna looked bewildered. Their eyes met again, and Luna was quick to reassure.

"They're fine."

Ron winced. "All the same..."

"Right," Luna agreed, frowning. They got up at the same time, wands in hand and ready to strike. Ron just reached the door where the other girl had disappeared through when the scream sounded.

* * *

"Where's the girl?" demanded Nott. His fury was blinding.

"She was right here, I swear it!" The other wizard was shocked to his core. He had nearly fainted when he walked into the room only to find _nothing _when there should have been _something_.

Nott's wand hand twitched angrily, making the other wizard flinch. He held his hands up, surrendering.

"I left the room for two secs, and then when I came back, she was gone. I swear on my life."

"Right now, your life isn't very valuable, _Sebastian_," said Nott viciously. He ran his hand through his hair and exhaled deeply. He swung around and looked out the door and made a decision.

"You're very, very lucky, Sebastian," he said quietly. He turned back to the other wizard and smiled mirthlessly. Sebastian looked puzzled and frightened. "Lucky because she's damaged. Sorely. She won't get far. Especially in this magnificent house."

"She'll run into someone else eventually," said Sebastian, relieved.

"She might even run into her own people," agreed Nott.

"How did you-?"

"I took it upon myself to place a Stealth Sensoring Spell around the whole property."

Sebastian said nothing for a bit, his mind pulsing with relief that he wasn't going to be punished and praise for Theodore Nott's forward thinking. Eventually, he said, "Does Marietta know about this?"

Nott smirked. "Do you think I trust her?"

"I – I'm not... sure."

"She thinks I don't know what she does," he said. "She thinks I don't notice when almost all of Malfoy's injuries are healed when they shouldn't be."

"She's got that Healer certificate, right?"

Nott sighed and deliberately flicked his wand. There was a small _bang_ near Sebastian's feet. Sebastian yelped and leapt backwards.

"They're trying to be clever," Nott muttered. "Sending in Weasley and Lovegood in to distract us. It's adorable how hard they're trying."

"How did you know?"

Nott slid into the single seat in the room and ran his hand through his hair again. He glanced at the wizard standing by, and then at the door. It was very possible Sebastian had left the door ajar. And if Mari's behaviour with Draco was anything to go by, there was a good chance the girl escaped with a wand.

There was a solitary bed in the corner where the girl was kept. It was a simple room, normal to outside eyes. There was a table by the bed for water and such. There was one, barred window.

"Freya is an Animagus," he said.

"No one told me this _why_?"

"Because _obviously_ you can't be trusted," snarled Nott, gesturing towards the empty bed.

Sebastian bit back a growl and ignored Nott's remark. "And how does Freya fit into all of this?"

"She can change into a bird," said Nott. "She's been following them this whole time, perched on windowsills and whatnot. They discuss their plans quite loudly, you see."

"...That's smart," Sebastian mumbled.

"Thank you."

The seconds of silence were shattered by a loud _crack_ from somewhere beneath them.

"I guess they found their way in," said Sebastian.

"It'll be Granger, no doubt," said Nott.

Sebastian took a step towards the door. He jerked his thumb towards the stairs near the door. "Do you want me to...?"

Nott smiled humourlessly and waved his hand dismissively. He shook his head and looked out of the barred window. There was no one in the back yard, which was expected. He looked at the cliff at the end of the property. The only thing you could see past the cliff was the ocean. Nott exhaled slowly and looked away from the view.

"Don't bother," Nott said, pulling a smile onto his face. "Let her try, and her friends. I guess Mari hasn't explained the whole plan to you, huh?"

Sebastian cocked his head, his eyebrows furrowed. He just opened his mouth to speak, when a scream rattled through the house.

Nott almost laughed at how quickly Sebastian's expression changed from confusion to alarm. His mouth shut and his eyes widened.

"I guess someone found the girl wandering around," said Nott. He got up; left the room and Sebastian closed the door behind them.

* * *

"Holy _shit_," he said breathlessly. "Look who it is."

"You're not too bad yourself, Potter."

_What have they done to him?_ Thought Harry, hurrying into the room. He resisted dropping to his knees by the bed, to keep the other wizard from being embarrassed.

"Don't tell me I'm going to be stuck with you," Draco said. He propped himself up on his elbows, wincing with the effort. Harry immediately realised that Draco had fractured ribs, and there was something wrong with his wrist.

"I sincerely hope not," Harry told him. He threw a glance over his shoulder. The door had been suspiciously easy to open, which reinforced the notion in Harry's mind. And then there lay Malfoy on the bed, broken and barely conscious. He had just tried the first door he'd seen after ascending the stairs.

"Don't tell me that you're trying to find Hermione," Draco said tiredly. He sat still as Harry worked on his injuries.

"_Ferula_," muttered Harry. He created an acceptable splint for Draco wrist. He didn't have enough medical knowledge to do anything for Draco's ribs though. But after a quick inspection, the bandages someone had wrapped around him seemed to numb the pain, at least.

"Potter," Draco warned.

"Why don't you tell me some more things I'm not supposed to tell you?"

"Fantastic, Potter," said Draco through his teeth. "That's great."

"Shut up," Harry snapped.

Harry helped his old nemesis to his feet and watched Draco try a few steps gingerly. Harry was at a loss for what to do. He had set out intending to find Hermione, but instead he stumbled across Draco. It's true that Draco was why they were there in the first place, but in Harry's mind, Draco was not the top priority at that moment.

"Before we go on an adventure together," Harry said when he got tired of watching Draco stagger around, "I think we need to share."

"I'm crippled and worried, Potter," Draco said grimly. "I think we should have this conversation whilst moving."

Draco waved away Harry's offer to help and stumbled to the door by himself. It took him a few metres to walk properly.

Harry checked all around them as they moved past all the other rooms, until they reached another staircase. After a few steps, Harry fished out the Cloak and threw it over the pair of them. His heart hammered in his chest and there was the ever-present feeling that someone was watching them.

Harry wanted to move slowly, for Draco's sake. He personally felt no love for Draco Malfoy but he knew, though he didn't know why, that Hermione did. Draco, again, waved away his offer of moving slower and started striding faster.

Harry thought Draco couldn't tell him anything he didn't already know, so he spoke first: "I don't know if you know, but back in England, the Ministry's going nuts trying to find you-"

"They'd better."

Harry glared at him. "And _others_ are going crazy, too."

Draco wisely kept his eyes away from Harry.

"We've been formulating this plan for days now, and we've had to leave Ginny behind-"

"Potter."

"And Blaise Zabini's on this rescue mission too." Harry helped Draco turn a corner, glancing at the next set of stairs. Guessing by the height of the house from the outside, the third floor was going to be the last.

"Potter."

"What?"

"They know more than you think they do. They've been following you since you got here – Marietta keeps mentioning a 'little birdie' – and I'm sure you know, but Nott has friends everywhere, and I'm fairly certain that they've seen through Weasley and Lovegood's disguise."

Harry stared at him, aghast. His mind was whirling, suddenly tainted by panic.

"Wha – you – can't be serious?"

"There's more," Draco said, panting slightly. "As much as I don't like you, Potter, I wish I don't have to tell you this-"

"On with it!" Harry nearly roared, blood thundering in his head.

"They've got Ginny. Here. Imprisoned."

* * *

Nott rushed in, accompanied by a wizard Hermione had never seen before. Nott's hair was wild and messy, as if he had been tugging at it but his eyes were careful, guarded. The other wizard seemed to be a few years younger, like he had just left school. He had barely visible freckles spread across his cheeks. Both of the wizards had their wands clutched in their fists, Nott's sparking randomly.

Hermione held her breath and kept completely still as they strode past. She could hear a girl whimpering.

"God damn, Mari," Nott was saying as he disappeared out of Hermione's view. "What the hell happened?"

"I walked in, and there was a _freaking_ zombie staring at me."

"Oh, _shut up_, Mari," Nott said venomously.

Hermione risked a peek out of the closet and saw that all three people had their backs to her. She pushed the door open slowly and crept past the door. She hid just outside the open door, crouched low and hobbled closer.

"You're so fucking weak."

"Well, I didn't see _you_ being all hard-arse when _you_ ran face first into that prisoner you messed up!"

Nott shook his head and narrowed his eyes. He glared at the woman, before thrusting his arm out, pointing out the door. Hermione threw herself back on the wall as Sebastian marched out the door, looking miserable. Hermione waited, terrified, and she didn't breathe again until Sebastian was safely gone down the stairs.

An airy sigh floated out of the bathroom, making Hermione's head snap back to the others.

"I don't understand," whispered Marietta. "How did she escape?"

The realisation hit and it hit hard. It was nothing more than an irking suspicion before, but now it was a rock solid fact. Hermione's heart pounded painfully and loudly in her chest, so loudly that she thought the others could hear it.

"It was Sebastian, I think," replied Nott. "He left a door open."

"_Gre-e-e-a-t._"

There was a sudden thud, as if someone had slammed his or her fist down on something.

"Where did she go?"

"Down the stairs – down the stairs."

Hermione watched wide-eyed as Nott dragged Marietta out of the room. She went easily.

Then suddenly Marietta looked behind her shoulder – and shot a glance at Hermione.

Hermione nearly fainted.

It was over in a blink, and Nott and Marietta disappeared onto the lower floor.

Hermione sprung up from her position and took a deep breath. She knew she should probably look for the others, but something drove her to follow the pair walking away from her. So she did.

_I'm disguised_, she thought. _She shouldn't have known who I am, because I'm disguised_.

Hermione self-consciously lifted a strand of her hair, and saw to her horror that it was nearly back at its normal colour.

By the time she got down to the second floor, she had lost them. She wandered around wildly, with panic sprouting in her heart. Hermione was about to give up on the second floor when the floorboards creaked behind her.

She stopped dead still and slowly wheeled around. There was no one in view. She started to creep forwards, towards where the floor creaked.

There was a sudden flourish, and Hermione staggered backwards.

"Oh!" She shrieked, pressing her fist to her mouth. Her heart nearly failed, and her wand dropped in her suddenly slack hand. She stumbled and leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, there was one more person revealed.

She started forwards eagerly, only to drop back again at the sight of them.

Harry was panting heavily, his forehead matted with sweat and his hair even messier than usual. His face was angry and worried, and Hermione automatically knew that Harry knew. She advanced one step, biting her lip at the emotion on Harry's face. She had just opened her mouth to speak, to assure, to agree.

But she stopped again, because there was Draco.

Hermione's chest suddenly tightened. Suddenly, she was biting her lip so hard she was afraid she was going to draw blood.

She had to look away when Draco tried to walk towards her. What was wrong with her? Here was the person who she had risked everything for, her friends, every one at work and her life. Here was the person whose sudden disappearance had torn her world in half. Here was the person she had drawn up this ludicrous scheme for, and she couldn't look at him. Yet.

Hermione steeled herself, and turned her face back to the people she had turned away from. It was obvious by the way Draco clutched at his abdomen and limped slightly that something was wrong. She didn't watch him for too long. She had no plan this time, no idea what she was meant to say. So she simply didn't say anything.

Hermione knew Harry wasn't saying anything for her sake and she was grateful. But enough was enough, and there were more pressing matters on her mind than reconciling with Draco.

"Ginny," was all she said.

"Downstairs," said Draco immediately. Despite herself, Hermione was alarmed at how weak Draco's voice was. Her eyes were drawn to his obvious injuries. She noticed the mediocre splint on his wrist, how Draco's eyes seemed to get more and more glazed as time passed.

"We saw them go downstairs," explained Harry, who was starting to move towards the stairs.

Hermione started after him, but hesitated when Draco's injuries swam back into mind. She glanced back at his slightly hunched form, and held out an arm. Draco took it, and they followed Harry's lead.

The hairs stood up on Hermione's neck as they passed by more and more rooms, and down more stairs. The whole house was silent. There wasn't a single whisper of noise, nothing to indicate anything going on the floor below them. It unnerved her.

Draco filled her in on everything he had told to Harry, and after that, he told both of them the rest of it.

"A little birdie," said Hermione, frowning.

"Since when were we near birds?"

"I don't know," said Hermione, and that frightened her.

It had been barely five minutes of the second floor when the first _bang_ sounded. The yell that followed didn't _quite_ sound like Ginny, but Hermione imagined that it didn't make a shred of difference to Harry. It was a clear yell of pain, and it sounded feminine. Hermione blinked and the word _pregnant_ floated into mind.

Harry took off immediately, speeding to the general direction of the noise, ignoring all kinds of protests and pleading. Hermione grabbed Draco's uninjured hand and pulled him with her.

She ran after Harry, trying to keep Draco in mind, but it didn't really work. Draco was trying his best though, attempting to quash his pain.

"Harry," shouted Hermione. Harry's back disappeared around a corner. They were now on the ground floor, where it all began. "Harry, _wait_, damn it!"

Suddenly, with a dizzying jolt of nausea, Hermione remembered Ron and Luna. Where on earth were they? Harry hadn't said anything about them, or Blaise either. But there was no stopping Harry, and Hermione knew Ron and Luna could handle themselves. Blaise must have gone after them.

Still, she worried.

They combed through the last floor and there was no one around. There was only two cups on the coffee table in the living room, one nearly empty and the other nearly full to the brim with tea.

"Where are they?" Harry muttered. "Where are they, where are they?"

"Outside," said Draco, trying not voice his exhaustion. "They'll be outside, it's the only place left."

"How do you get to the back?" Hermione said. "Where's the door?"

Draco gestured weakly behind them. Hermione peered over Draco's shoulder, and noticed a dark door that she hadn't noticed before.

Through the small window at the top of the door, Hermione saw a quick blur with blonde hair run past, and she knew they were outside.

"You should stay here," Hermione said to Draco.

"What? No!" Draco immediately protested.

"You're injured, Malfoy," said Hermione, a little coldly.

"I'm the only one here who knows them," said Draco furiously. For the first time since Hermione clapped eyes on him, Draco was almost back to the Draco that Hermione knew, and not the shy, almost embarrassed version that she had been travelling with.

"Blaise hasn't got a fucking clue," Draco hissed. "He has no fucking idea."

"Oh, let him go," said Harry, impatient. "It's not like you'll let him die, Hermione."

"Are we going to waste more time, or are we going to get the _fuck_ out there?"

Hermione growled and flung the door open. Harry burst past her and into the open space beyond.

Even though she was just there before, Hermione thought the back looked differently. It seemed bigger than before. She hadn't realised, or fully appreciated, just how large it all was. Even the cliff seemed far away.

The first person to come into view was the wizard who was with Theodore Nott earlier: Sebastian. He was slowly backing away from something, waving his wand wildly. A bolt of red flashed from his wand and hit something out of sight. Then he turned and raced off.

The sky that was previously light, cloud-free and completely without wind (along with the sweltering heat) was gone. The sky that had replaced it was dark and ominous with rain clouds gathering in the distance. Adding to the atmosphere was a strong wind that howled. A good fit, Hermione thought humourlessly. It's a perfect setting to this.

Harry, Hermione and Draco's stillness lasted for approximately half a second, before they were off. Harry took of immediately, screaming Ginny's name over the wind. He disappeared quickly.

Hermione caught hold of Draco's hand again, and gave him a little tug.

He shook his head and said, "Go without me."

Hermione started protesting, but he just said again, "Go without me."

Hermione stared at him, exasperated. But there was a certain gleam in his eye and Hermione knew he couldn't be persuaded.

Grudgingly, Hermione tore her hand from his and started running to the maze entrance. When she looked back, he was already gone.

* * *

Luna was gasping for breath. Did this 'back yard' ever end? It was more like a rugby field. She looked back every once and so often to make sure Blaise and Ron were following her. She still wasn't sure if that bitch Freya was gone yet. And Luna wasn't going to stop until she was absolutely sure.

Ron and Luna had run into Blaise almost immediately after leaving the other room. Ron had fired a spell when Blaise came into view. It had narrowly missed, shattering a nearby vase.

And now they were here, reduced to hiding in an endless maze, with no idea where their friends were, where anyone was.

Luna had learned early on that there was an Animagus involved. The witch had transformed right before her eyes, and Luna immediately recognised the bird that had caught her eye on the windowsill in Lia's house.

Luna, Ron and Blaise had been drawn to the back yard by a bizarre sight Ron had happened to catch a glimpse while looking out a window in one of the rooms on the second floor.

It was, quite simply, the sight of a pair of feet being dragged out of view.

"Look," he had said, alarmed. Luna and Blaise rushed to his side, just in time to see the soles of the shoes being dragged away.

"Do you think it's..." Blaise let his question trail, perhaps not wanting to be the one to say it out loud.

"We should go," Luna said shakily. They'd then left the room and the window.

They had made their way to the ground floor, luckily, without detection. It was bad enough that it was so easy to get in, too easy, but the deafening silence was worse.

By the time they had reached the ground floor, the first sign of conflict sounded. The _crack_ was quickly followed by a _snap_. There were slurs of noises after, all overlapping each other. It felt like there were a considerable number of people nearby.

Someone's putting up a good fight, Luna had thought, before they burst through a dark door and right in the midst of all of it.

And now they truly were right in the middle of it. Ron was hurt somewhere, they hadn't stopped to check yet, they just couldn't, and it was getting increasingly difficult to discern where they were going and where they had been.

Along with Freya bouncing from woman to bird every couple of seconds, Luna suspected there was a man bumbling after them. As far as she knew, there were five people who were definitely not her friends running around.

From the outside, the maze seemed relatively small, but that was not the case once inside. None of them had been in the maze that was used in the Triwizard Tournament, but all of them could easily visualise its great size. The maze they were in currently felt like the size of the Tournament maze, and that itself was not a comforting thought.

Luna desperately wanted to stop and pause for a second, to catch her breath, to catch up with the others, to stop and evaluate their options. Do they try to leave the house, try to get outside of the Anti – Disapparition boundary and hope that the others got out okay? Or do they stay?

The screech of a bird in pain brought Luna back to reality. She whipped around, to face Ron's back, his wand arm slowly lowering. There was a quiet thump somewhere very near, and from that spot, a woman stood shakily, stunned into harmlessness. She was up and mobile for a second, before she promptly collapsed onto the ground, and she did not move again.

"Did you -?" whispered Luna to Ron. She couldn't take her eyes off Freya's still form.

"'Course not," said Ron gruffly. "Probably knocked out from the fall. Look," he pointed at the woman, "she's breathing."

"Nice hit," Blaise said. "If we're lucky, she'll stay down for the remainder of this stupid day."

"Unlikely," said Ron, frowning.

Luna led the other two around a corner. They faced two paths: one to the left and one going straight ahead, which eventually branched off into more paths. She was on the brink of offering her opinion on taking the path to the left when something flashed by down the straight path.

It initially struck Luna as an animal of a sort. At the first glance, it looked like some great shaggy brown bear, before the thought was replaced by logic. She opened her mouth to speak her confusion, when someone else's voice replaced hers.

Ron cried out, sounding quite unlike himself, "Hermione!"

* * *

Hermione cursed under her breath. She quickened her pace and shot around a corner. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw he was still there. She ducked as a curse soared over her head. She aimed and shot a spell. A grunt confirmed her hit. She slowed down her pace, and tried to catch her breath. A look at her pursuer and a hesitant check told Hermione that he wouldn't be up and chasing anyone else anytime soon.

She took a deep breath and swung her head back and forth. It seems like no one was around. She coughed and started walking back the way she came. She stepped over the nameless man and held her wand steady. Walking alone scared her. She could almost hear the plants and such around her whispering. The wind in the maze was nothing compared to the wind outside. The wind in the maze was barely a breeze. She could clearly picture Harry screaming over the wind mere minutes ago.

Or was it minutes ago? It was hard to tell in the maze, where the time seemed to melt away like ice cubes in the sun.

Hermione swore she saw a wisp of Luna's dirty blonde hair earlier. Then a curse came flying and Hermione had immediately ducked. But the curse struck a bird mid-air, and Hermione watched, speechless, as the bird transformed into a woman before her eyes. The woman staggered a few steps forward, before she promptly collapsed into a heap on the ground.

Suddenly there were quiet voices floating through the air.

Hermione threw herself back against the hedge wall and sat through five agonising seconds, before she dared to look around the corner again. They were gone.

That's when a man appeared behind her. They were still, staring at each other in shock, before the man had quickly sent a curse her way. She then started running.

Hermione didn't think there was anyone else following her, but she couldn't be certain.

"Luna," she said hoarsely, trying to keep her voice down. "Ron!"

She knew it was a mistake the second it left her mouth. The instant a twig snapped behind her, she wheeled around, her wand ready to strike.

"Show yourself," she called out, her voice displaying an inner confidence she did not have. "Don't be a coward."

"A coward from Gryffindor?" asked Ron, as he came out with Luna and Blaise in tow. "I'm not Wormtail, Hermione."

"Oh, thank God," Hermione mumbled, stumbling forwards. She hugged him fiercely, breathing him in. "I thought... I thought -"

"I know what you thought," Ron said quietly.

Hermione broke away and sniffed. She regained her composure and tried to smile, but the corners of her mouth felt like lead.

As they tried to find their way out of the maze, Hermione filled them in on all they didn't know. They told her about the strange sight that made them go downstairs.

Hermione's stomach felt queasy. Her heart dropped, and she uttered a low groan.

The second Hermione mentioned Ginny, a fierce glint shone in Ron's blue eyes and he roared, "WHAT?"

Luna's eyes widened and the shock was splattered all over her face. "Are you serious?"

Blaise sighed deeply and said, "Well, they've really landed themselves in the shit now, haven't they? Silly people."

"Oh, my fucking God," Ron shouted. Hermione would have been concerned about the attention, but she didn't care anymore. All she wanted was to go home.

"Oh, this is ridiculous," said Hermione, impatient. She whirled around, making sure the others were a safe distance away.

"What are you-" Luna began.

"Stand back," she ordered. She pointed her wand at a nearby hedge and aimed. She fired.

A large hole appeared in the hedge, just the right size for a body. Hermione fired more times, enough to make a hole big enough to fit all of them in. The air was filled with the smell of burnt wood.

"Good thinking," Blaise said, and he immediately shot through.

Luna made the next hole, and it continued, until finally, they were out of the maze.

It wasn't hard to find Harry. Suddenly, it felt as if the property had shrunken to twice its size. They walked right past the unconscious form of Sebastian lying on the ground.

They found Harry within seconds of burning their way out of the maze. He wasn't alone.

Ron sent a Stunning Spell as soon as the battling pair came into view. It hit the other woman square in the chest, and she dropped like a sack of potatoes.

"Thanks," Harry gasped, clutching at his side. It took him a while to realise who had actually come. When he did, he jumped and little, and enveloped Hermione and Ron in a rib-crushing hug.

"Where's your Malfoy?" he asked. Hermione frowned.

"_Draco..._" she said pointedly, "well, actually... I don't know. He made me go on without him."

"Great," Ron groaned. "That's two people now we have to find."

Luna was looking all around them, leaving no corner unsearched. She sighed, and the despair was clear on her face.

"There's one place they'd be," she said slowly. "Not in the house – they wouldn't want to go into restricted space. So..." She trailed off, her gaze pointed at the land beyond the fence.

Distantly, the sounds of the ocean crashing against rock could be heard. The wind seemed more ferocious over there. Everything seemed to invite Hermione in over by the fence.

Without a word, Hermione crouched low and crawled through the small hole in the hedge. She stood face first to the fence. She didn't hesitate when she pushed it open.

"Hello!"

The voice was deep and loud. It boomed around her, it infiltrated her ears and rang around in her head. Theodore's voice had changed. Everything about Theodore Nott had changed.

He was grinning widely. Hermione felt her skin crawl. His teeth were on full display.

"Wonderful weather, today?" he said, gesturing to the wild wind. Hermione wasn't sure it was possible, but his grin grew bigger.

"I definitely came to Italy for the weather," Hermione answered. Nott shrugged.

"I guess you'll be wanting your things, huh?" Hermione thought he sounded a little sad.

"You're dead, Nott, you hear me?!" Ron exploded, his face twisted in a dreadful snarl.

"Oh, I hear you," Nott said, smirking. "And your darling Ginny can hear, too."

Harry had no words, just an unintelligible stream of noises all doused in fury. He raised his wand to attack, but Hermione stopped him. His eyes were tortured and flashing. Hermione silenced him with a look.

"And Draco?" called Hermione, a desperate attempt at stalling. "Do you have him, too?"

"Draco?" he asked, amused. He threw back his head and barked out a laugh. "I cannot say I do have your beloved, Miss Granger." The last part was mocking. "If I were in your shoes, I would think he's ditched!"

Hermione turned ice cold. _No_, she thought. _He wouldn't._

"What are you waiting for, Nott?" she asked, leering. "Afraid you're going to beat by a _girl_?"

"Always," he said, looking surprised. "After Mari, I can't help but be afraid of you members of the opposite gender."

"So you should be," said another voice. The tone was flat and bored.

A woman stepped out from the hedge. Hermione was momentarily confused, before she realised that there were obviously other entrances from the gate.

There she was. Her tormentor, her torturer. The one Hermione loathed endlessly and pitied endlessly. The one she had scarred in her fifth year with a jinx. The one who was a pawn in the whole thing, just as much as Hermione.

Marietta Edgecombe stood as close to the fence as she could, her arms folded across her chest and her face impassive. The years had been kind to her. The years had also been kind to her scar.

'SNITCH' wasn't completely gone, but it had diminished enough so that Marietta Edgecombe wouldn't have to wear large amounts of make up everyday. If Hermione strained her eyes, the word that was scrawled across her face like a bad tattoo was just visible. Her dark eyes met Hermione's, and a real scowl appeared on her face.

"If you're looking for Draco," she said, her face curling unpleasantly, "don't ask me. I have no fucking idea." The words sounded unnatural. Hermione was almost certain she was lying.

"You look better, Marietta," said Hermione. "You can only _just_ see your soul, now." A vicious thrill ran through her at taunting the smaller girl. Must be all the adrenaline.

"I see you still look like an overgrown bunny rabbit who feasts on books and clamps her legs shut every time a person walks past," She shot Ron a smirk. "Weasleys don't count as people in my book. Sorry."

"You're a great writer, _Mari_," Hermione shouted. "You should think about taking it up as a career!"

"My first published novel," Marietta said back. "_The Activities of a Mudblood : Mingling Monstrosities."_

"She's vicious, isn't she?" cried Nott delightedly. His face suddenly fell, before he snarled, "Not as vicious as me, fortunately."

"Duck!" Harry commanded, his voice sounding a split second before the other one.

"_Petrificus Totalus_," he roared. The spell narrowly missed Luna's head.

_It's five against two, _Hermione thought. _They've got no chance._

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Marietta Edgecombe disappear into the hedge again. _Five against one._

Strangely, Nott seemed unaffected by Marietta Edgecombe's sudden desertion. If anything, it only lifted his spirits. Another wide grin stretched across his face.

"Good girl," he yelled.

Everyone burst into action. Nott found himself battling three, Hermione, Ron and Harry.

"Luna, Blaise!" Ron shouted over his shoulder. "Go after the girl!"

Hermione didn't bother to check if they obeyed, but a faint rustle and a quiet creak of the gate told her what she needed to know.

Hermione knew that Nott's magical abilities had apparently sky rocketed since Hogwarts, but until now she could have never guessed how much.

It was very impressive that he was able to ward off three highly trained Aurors. He was even smiling as he did.

But, Hermione noticed, there was something unnatural about Nott. Every spell aimed at him hit its target – and yet they bounced off him as if he were made out of steel. And even steel couldn't withstand some of the magic that was being directed at him. Nott was playing dirty.

"Why – won't – you – die?" Ron shouted angrily, his face colouring red.

The fight seemed to last for an eternity, though Hermione vaguely knew it was only for a few minutes. She got the sense that Nott could have gone on for hours and hours, but he was cut short.

The fight ended abruptly with one well-placed curse that came unexpectedly. Hermione watched Theodore fall, already unconscious, with mixed emotions. One half of her was glad he was finally down, but the other was disappointed that she didn't finish him off herself.

Ron was the first to turn away from Theodore's still body. "I would be happier if you let me do it."

"It didn't look like _that_ was going to happen anytime soon," Draco said.

"Why is that, anyway?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Draco said. "I think he made some sort of barter with someone a long time ago, and he got some sort of armour around him. Its only weak link is, for some reason, his left shoulder, so that's where I aimed."

"Would've done good to tell us that before," Hermione snapped.

"It slipped my mind," answered Draco, with a hint of a smirk.

Hermione refused to smile. She refused to thank him, as Harry and Ron had. She was still furious that he made her go without him. It was an irrational fury, she knew, but that didn't stop her from having it.

The revelation of Nott's protection briefly drove away the drive to find Ginny. Hermione's stomach churned as she remembered that Ginny was with child.

"Ginny," she said. "Great Gods, Draco. Have you seen Ginny?"

"I have an inkling that's exactly who Marietta went to fetch."

"Someone bind Nott," said Harry, who was nearing the fence, "And make it's tight. Make sure he won't escape."

Draco complied, and heaved a great sigh. "Where do you want him now, boss?" His tone was heavily laced with sarcasm.

"Keep him there," Ron answered. "He won't try anything." He looked to Harry for confirmation, only to find him gone.

Ron tore after him, following the fresh footsteps. Hermione turned to Draco and snapped, "Stay here."

He began to protest.

"No," she yelled. "_Stay_."

"They won't find her," said Draco angrily. "We should stay right here, all of us. Marietta will be back, and she'll come back with the girl!"

"How do you know she won't hurt her?" Hermione challenged.

"Because I _know_ her!"

Hermione's face fell, and her voice grew soft. "You know her the way you used to know me, huh?"

Draco didn't have a chance to respond, because true to his word, a large form came stumbling from the fence. It was Marietta, holding the limp form of Ginny.

Marietta shifted her tired eyes to meet Hermione's. She looked away lazily and walked closer and closer to the cliff edge.

"Don't try anything," she called. "If I get the slightest inclination of any malevolence from any one of you, poor, pregnant Ginny here will get the boot."

Hermione's eyes darted from Marietta to the sea behind her. Ginny's eyelids fluttered.

A second later, Harry and Ron came crashing through the fence. Hermione held out an arm to steady them.

"It was easy," Marietta said over the wind. "If you were wondering."

"Hermione," Harry said lowly in warning.

"To take her," Marietta continued on. She seemed oblivious to the rising heat. "It was easy to take her. Completely unprotected. She didn't expect it, the poor thing. Or, so I'm told."

Draco gently pushed away Hermione's arm as he slowly crept forward towards Marietta standing near the edge of the cliff.

"Draco," Hermione hissed, "what are you doing?" She made grabs at Draco, but missed.

"Come away from the edge, baby," Draco drawled. His voice made Hermione's skin tingle, not pleasantly. He sounded deeper and heartier and entirely not himself. His voice betrayed no hint of the pain Hermione knew was still pulsing from his various injuries. He sounded like, Hermione realised, his father.

"You might fall," said Draco, his smile enchanting. "And I wouldn't want you to fall."

"I'm not so sure about that," said Marietta. Her voice was careful, but a small smile was playing at the corner of her mouth. Draco was starting to melt down her defences already. "Your behaviour these past weeks speak differently."

Draco stopped short a few metres from Marietta. He held his arms wide open, beckoning her in.

Everything happened quickly then. As soon as Marietta dropped Ginny's limp form and walked away from the cliff edge, Harry moved. He shot out, fast as lightening, and grabbed Ginny, hoisting her up into his arms. He dashed back as quick as he could.

In any other circumstances, Hermione would have found it comical how wide Marietta's eyes grew. Unfortunately, this particular circumstance made everything serious, and nothing was funny about how she pushed Draco away, and went back dangerously close to the cliff edge.

"Nice one," she said. "Very nicely done. I wouldn't have expected anything less of you, Draco Malfoy."

"Sorry," said Draco unapologetically. "I do know you, after all."

Marietta bit her bottom lip, and nodded. Was Hermione imagining it? Or did Marietta look completely devastated?

Suddenly, Hermione was afraid. Earlier, she was angry and spiteful in the face of Marietta Edgecombe. But now, it was the cliff edge that worried her.

"Theo's waking up," called Marietta quietly. "Maybe you should do something?"

Hermione glanced at the limp form by the hedge. He was stirring. She raised her wand to Stun him again, but Draco stopped her.

"No," he said. "Don't. I want him to see."

Hesitantly, she let her arm fall. Her eyes flickered to Draco's, sharp and calculating. She looked away immediately, dreading what was to come.

"See what?" Blaise said loudly. Hermione started; she hadn't even noticed him arrive.

"The grand finale," Marietta answered, her eyes locked on Draco's.

"So, how's this going to end, Mari?" asked Draco softly.

"You tell me, Draco," she said. "Am I going to go to Azkaban?"

All the others had fallen silent; they felt like they were eavesdropping on something private.

"I don't know."

"Azkaban would be positively horrid."

"It would," Draco agreed. He was stalling. But for what, Hermione didn't know.

"Am I going to escape, meet a nice man," her lips curled, "and have lots of little beautiful babies?"

"I don't know," said Draco harshly.

Suddenly, Marietta's face lit up with a strange gleam. She tilted her head sideways, causing her to look like a curious toddler.

"Or am I going to die?"

Hermione breathed in quickly, her emotions unclear. She peeked at the cliff edge and noticed it was alarmingly close to Marietta's feet.

There were many times during Hermione's school life and her career that she had that light bulb flash in her head, but she had never had so many go off at once as she did at that moment.

She wanted to tell Draco to stop. She wanted to pull him back, away from Marietta. She wanted so many things, but as usual she didn't get what she wanted.

"You're not going to die," said Draco, a touch of anger colouring his voice. He took a tentative step towards Marietta, as if he too, anticipated the same thing Hermione did.

Marietta looked down at her shoes that were speckled with dirt and tiny drops of barely visible blood. If Hermione didn't know any better, she would have assumed that Marietta was pleased.

She looked away from her shoes and stared out into the distance, nibbling at her bottom lip. She seemed to be pondering something.

Marietta turned back to the group, and her face was unreadable, except for her eyes. Her eyes possessed an almost demented look of determination.

"Did you love me?" asked Marietta. The girl was clearly trembling, but her voice was incredibly steady. The determination did not die down.

The question she posed, accompanied by its surroundings, was almost too horrible to bear. Already the pieces were falling into place in Hermione's mind – and she could only think of one outcome. But still, she refused to believe what her ears were telling her in a desperate attempt to ignore the inevitable. _Only now would you ignore the signs_, her mind whispered. _The one time in your life that you have torn down your wall._

Hermione was frozen to her feet, unable to move, unable to speak, unable to feel. While the other girl seemed as if she couldn't stop moving, one feet shuffling at a time, closer to the edge.

Hermione made no attempt to conceal her horror, which was obviously seen by the teetering girl by the cliff edge, because a hint of a smile entered her pained eyes.

But of course, it was gone instantly, and Hermione wasn't sure if it had happened at all. Perhaps it was her desperate mind, playing tricks on her. The only thing Hermione could do was wait for Draco's response, because there was nothing she could think of doing could aid the situation in any way. No amount of magic could repair the damage inside the other girl's head.

Whichever way Hermione twisted the situation in her head, it was always the same: only Draco Malfoy had the power to unravel everything.

"Yes," he told her.

"Liar," said Marietta with a rueful smile. In that instant, Hermione suddenly saw how Draco had been drawn to this young woman all those years ago, because, even with the faint, messy scar scrawled across her face that had marred her for so long, she was beautiful.

Then Marietta held out her arms and deliberately fell backwards off the cliff face, and the only sound to be heard was the rushing sounds below. A whisper of wind, a whiff of Marietta's perfume, and she was gone.

Hermione had half – expected wings to sprout from Marietta's shoulders that would carry her away.

* * *

**So, it's been a while, hasn't it? It's been a while. Sorry. But, obviously, this chapter is the longest chapter I have ever written – ever! It is insanely long, for me to write. Hope you enjoyed! Hah, this chapter really went everywhere. We progressed, guys. We progressed. Last chapter coming up. Feedback greatly appreciated c:**

**violet x**


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